Whatever It Takes
by Konoha Ninja 123
Summary: Ignoring how much Bulma means to him, Vegeta lets a mysterious visitor's warning about the future arrival of the androids lead him to make a selfish decision that costs him his relationship with Bulma. Can he fix things with her before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

Revised 10/5/08

A/N: This story is my take on a little what-if I've seen a few times in various Bulma and Vegeta stories, combined with the ever popular Bulma and Vegeta theme of 'how did they get together during that three year time span between Trunks' arrival and the androids?' that so many people like to write about. Which what-if, you ask? What if Vegeta had decided to have his way with Bulma while on Namek?

The fic in particular that inspired this one is Tina Lang's "Vegeta's Lesson", where, in a nutshell, Bulma 'teaches' Vegeta a thing (or ten) about women rather than simply timidly submitting to his demands- as if she would ever do such a thing! I hope Tina doesn't mind me filching off of her story, which I'd suggest you Google and read, if you haven't already. Yes, it is a lemon, which I don't exactly go scouring the Internet to find, but happened to stumble across when I first started reading DBZ fics. I don't write lemons, but there'll be some mushy/citrusy moments here and there. After all, this _is_ a Bulma and Vegeta get-together fic.

Anyway, this fic is most definitely an A/U, and it has been bouncing around in my head for quite a while now. The first couple of chapters are needed for introduction- give them a chance even if they seem a little slow. Hope you enjoy, and please R&R!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

_Note: thoughts have been italicized_

_

* * *

_

Twenty-two years in the future...

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to control his breathing. If he made even the tiniest noise, they'd hear it. _I'm not here, you can't see me, you won't find me. I'm not here, you can't see me, you won't find me..._ he repeated mentally, all the while cursing himself for his fear.

"Monkey boyyyy," the female voice crooned mockingly, interrupting his thoughts. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! I can't promise to make it quick or painless, but at least I promise that you won't survive to suffer this time."

He gritted his teeth, desperately endeavoring to control himself, knowing they were only goading him, willing his mind to banish the painful reminder of what he'd suffered just months earlier. How he'd been forced to watch, utterly helpless- despite his own not insignificant power- to defend the ones he loved most... the sound of their agonized, tortured screams, and how they'd suddenly stopped... their lifeless eyes staring blankly his direction when it was all over... how he'd sobbed uncontrollably like a baby at the loss, lying there broken and bloody in the mud, the rain pelting down on him as the two machines stood over him, laughing cruelly. Why couldn't they have just killed him too? He knew exactly why. He wasn't a threat in their eyes. Death would have been too merciful. Instead, they'd break him little by little before they finally killed him, reveling in the pain they were causing.

"You're a disgrace to your heritage, your so-called warrior race. Your father would turn in his grave and spit on you if he could see you now," the smooth male voice ridiculed.

18 laughed. "Grave? What grave? We just left him in pieces on the ground, remember?"

"My mistake, you're right," 17 conceded, smirking, before turning his attention back to his prey. "You may as well give yourself up, weakling. We'll just find you eventually, and rest assured we won't be as lenient as today."

Silence.

"Fine, have it your way!" 17 shouted angrily. "Your little contraption won't hide you forever, and when you decide to come out of hiding it will be the last thing you ever do! Come, sister. Let's go destroy that outpost of humans we discovered yesterday."

"Sounds like fun. I'm in," 18 agreed. "We'll come back for the coward later."

He watched them fly away, knowing that they wouldn't spare him much time. He had to wait to make sure they really were gone, then make a run for it. If he could just make it back to Mother's lab and get the appropriate capsule... His stomach let out a loud growl. "Thank Kami," the young man mumbled. If that had happened only ten seconds earlier, he'd have been a goner. Of course, considering he hadn't had anything substantial to eat in almost a month, it was amazing he had even the strength he did now. Adrenaline and whatever consumables he could manage to find were the only things keeping him alive.

* * *

After waiting a good ten minutes or so, he poked his head up over the edge of the rubble he'd been hiding behind and did a quick sweep of the area. Not detecting the androids, he got up and stealthily crept the direction of his intended destination, ignoring the sounds of explosions in the distance. Despite the fact that the gear he wore contained a device Bulma had created which cast an energy shield over itself, rendering him virtually invisible, he could count on the androids knowing he'd try to make it back to Capsule Corp.

He'd almost made it there before the accursed machines arrived. Suppressing his ki as much as possible, he made a mad dash for the building and Bulma's hidden underground laboratory. Unfortunately for him, in his haste he tripped, landing on the ground and right atop the power module of his energy shield. _No! Of all the times to destroy my only cover! Vegeta, you clumsy idiot!_ he chastised himself as he flickered back into plain sight.

"17, look!" 18 shouted, pointing. "There's the monkey!"

17 smiled maliciously. "Let's get him, sister."

"Oh, give him a little head start," 18 suggested. "It'll make the chase all the more fun."

The young demi-saiyan picked himself up as quickly as possible and ran for the building. _Stupid, stupid idiot!_ he berated himself. _Father really _would_ turn in his grave if he could see what I just did!_ Reaching the house, he slammed the front door and bolted it, despite the fact he knew perfectly well it would do little good against the androids, and made a mad dash for the lower level of the building. As he descended, an explosion rocked the house as the androids burst in.

"Did you see which direction the little roach scuttled in?" 17 inquired of his sister, his voice sounding bored.

"No," 18 admitted. "You go this way, and I'll go that way," she suggested, grinning ear to ear. "I do love the chase." They flew off their respective directions.

* * *

His hands trembling, he entered the security code, still cursing himself for being such a coward as the door opened. He was a Super Saiyan, damn it! He leapt inside as quickly as possible, securing the door behind him.

"18!" He heard 17's shout in the distance. "I found him!"

Groaning, he ransacked the lab, looking for a specific box of capsules. "Kami be praised, here it is!" he exclaimed, pulling out a little box containing the capsule he was looking for. The contents of this capsule were doubly secured because the box was locked with a thumbprint scan, into which Bulma had programmed his thumbprint as one of the acceptable ones, and the capsule itself was protected by four little numbered dials which needed to be set in the proper order. He pressed his left thumb on the box, unlocking it, then turned the dials of the capsule to the correct number. The plunger of the capsule popped out, and he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in relief. Pressing the plunger, he tossed the capsule on the floor and backed away. The capsule burst open, revealing the machine he needed.

The door exploded inward and the two androids flew in. "Ah, there you are," 18 exclaimed in an almost soothing voice which made his stomach lurch. "What's your little toy there?" She crossed her arms, regarding him amusedly. "Can we play too?"

The young man opened the glass dome of the machine and leapt inside. "Go to hell, you Kami damned androids!" he shouted as the dome closed. He hurriedly began pressing buttons and the machine powered itself to life.

"Now, that was rude," 17 commented dryly. "I don't think he wants to play nice, 18."

"He won't get a second chance to," 18 replied, launching herself at the machine, "because I've grown tired of this little game." Her fist flew toward the glass-

The machine disappeared in a flash of light.

"Damn it!" 18 screamed as her fist plowed into the wall behind her. "He's gone!"

_

* * *

_

One year in the future...

He was sitting in a storage area beneath the house, his heart beating wildly. He let his head collapse back against the seat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. His trembling hands reached up and removed the helmet and face shield he wore, tossing it aside, and he cupped them over his face, running them over it and up over his forehead, smoothing back several loose strands of thick, rumpled hair. "_Compose_ yourself, Geta," he growled. "You made it, you're alive. You can fix all of this if you calm down and don't blow it." He took a deep breath. "I just need to concentrate on getting _out_ of here without anyone catching me." He dragged himself out of the uncomfortably small pod and pressed the button on its side to encapsulate it. Leaning down to pick it up, he collapsed, falling deeply into a much needed sleep.

_

* * *

_

The present...

Bulma wandered across the unfamiliar terrain, looking for any sign of her friends. How could he just leave her and fly off like that? Alien asshole! But such a _sexy_ one... "Cut it out, Bulma," she muttered to herself, feeling her heart race faster and her cheeks grow hot. "It was only sex. It's not like you've never had sex before." However, although the encounter had not quite happened the way she would have planned it, it had definitely turned out to be more exciting than she'd originally anticipated.

A _lot_ more exciting.

_Yes, it was only sex. Only the best sex you've _ever_ had, and with a damn hot alien prince who let you do whatever you wanted to him and ended up enjoying it to the point that he was more than happy to reciprocate in your behalf-_

"Shut up," she hissed to her nagging mind, hugging her arms around herself and continuing on.

_You never even got close to that kind of satisfaction from Yamcha, did you, and how long had you been a couple? Exactly how much did he proclaim to love you?_ her mind continued. _Admit it, you're not just attracted to Vegeta, you've already tumbled head over heels for him, you little hussy!_

Bulma sighed in defeat, knowing her subconscious was right. "I've got to find the guys," she muttered. "And I have no idea where to start. This planet's huge!" She let out a whimper. At least if she didn't find them, she could find her way back to her camp.

* * *

He barely felt the pain, welcomed it even, because with each swing of Frieza's fist, his humiliation rose another notch, especially with Baldy, the Namek and the half-breed whelp looking on. They had witnessed him defeat Zarbon, only to stand there and watch his most hated adversary, the creature who had made his childhood a living hell with his mental and physical tortures, beating the life out of him. At least he'd left that blue-haired woman behind. Although he told himself that she hadn't meant anything to him, somehow the thought of her seeing Frieza beat him was infinitely worse than the knowledge that the others stood there watching and couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to stop it. Not that he wanted or needed _their_ help. He choked, another rush of blood spurting up from his lungs. He wished that Frieza would just finish him and end his humiliation, his failures. His weakness. The only reason he would regret dying now was his greatest failure- he, the Prince of Saiyans, had been unable to do his duty and avenge the destruction of his race.

Especially if that worthless, third class excuse of a Saiyan _Kakarrot_ did it for him.

At least the revolting lizard would fall at the hands of a Saiyan, which is how it should be.

* * *

Hearing activity nearby, Bulma picked up her pace and ran toward the source of the sounds. Was that someone being beaten? Ah well, probably Vegeta kicking the daylights out of another one of Frieza's henchmen. Or maybe even out of Frieza himself! Mentally cheering her prince on, she crept up to the action and hid behind a boulder, not wanting to be seen by him or by Gohan, Piccolo or Krillin, all of whom she'd noticed standing nearby. _They look pretty agitated; it must be brutal._ She peeked out from between some leaves, and gasped at what she saw.

But, it wasn't Vegeta doing the beating.

It was Frieza. And he was pummeling Vegeta.

_Oh, Kami! He's beating Vegeta! He's going to _kill_ him!_ Bulma's hand flew up to cover her mouth in horror, incapable of tearing her eyes away from the carnage, unaware of the tears trickling down her cheeks. This was happening to the man she'd just made love with no more than a few hours ago! Her stomach lurched as a large amount of blood sprayed out of Vegeta's mouth, splattering the ground nearby. Frieza laughed, his smile growing wider, and punched Vegeta's back even harder. Unable to keep watching, she turned and ran as far as she could before emptying her stomach on the ground. Collapsing to her knees, she passed out into blessed oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

Updated 1/4/09

AN: You'll notice that in some places in this story I have borrowed portions of the dialogue from the anime, but I'm majorly tweaking things to suit my own needs. For instance, here I'm skipping the fight between Vegeta and Gohan. Plus, I will be adjusting certain things, like making Bulma and Vegeta younger than they are at this point in the anime. Think early to mid twenties instead of mid to late twenties. So don't be too concerned if things like ages aren't quite right.

Another thing that may cause some initial confusion within this story is I am acknowledging the fact that DBZ doesn't take place on "our" Earth or in Japan as we know it but on an alternate Earth, so technically there is no Japan, or Japanese language. Everyone in DBZ seems to speak the same language (heck, even Frieza spoke this same mystery language), which I will call "Standard". But this is an alternate universe, so in my story I am going to have more than one language, and two "Standard" languages: Eastern Standard and Western Standard. We here in the US are technically a "Western" country, but since in DBZ West Capital City is a major city, I thought it would be weird to have that be "Eastern Country" and where what might be the equivalent of the US would be "Western Country" so for this story, Bulma and friends live in "Western Country" and speak "Western Standard", and the other major language is "Eastern Standard", spoken by "Easterners". Of course I will keep possible usages of other so-called sub-languages just for the sake of simplicity. And yes, they eat Chinese food in this story! Does China exist? _shrug_ I dunno. Does it matter? Not yet, anyway, if it ever will.

Confused yet? Sorry. I do have a reason for all of the technicalities, never fear. I'll get to that eventually.

As an FYI, I tend to write the way they shoot movies - piece by piece and out of order. If I don't get an idea "on paper" while it's fresh in my mind, I'll forget. That being said, I have been tinkering with this particular story quite for some time now, and have over five MB of bits and pieces. If you'd like me to get into the meat and potatoes of this story a little faster and leave the later plots alone, I'd love to hear from you! (hint hint- please R&R!)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Two

She should have been happy. Glad to be off that planet, to be safely home. But how could she be? Her best friend was dead. And Vegeta... he was dead, too. Upon awakening, she had snuck back just long enough to see Goku bury the prince's battered and lifeless body before running away again. Her heart had twisted in her chest as she'd held Gohan close, both of them grieving together over their losses.

And now, Vegeta was back. She'd just stared in shocked surprise when she saw him. _He's alive... living, breathing, and scowling like normal._ The corner of her mouth flickered upward in amusement for the briefest of moments as the thought crossed her mind. He turned his head and noticed her staring. Their eyes locked for a moment before he scowled even harder at her.

"What are you looking at, Woman?" Vegeta demanded irritably, startling her out of her reverie. Before she knew what was happening, he was standing next to her, and a little squeak of surprise escaped her lips as he snatched her wrist and yanked her behind the tree he'd been leaning against.

Bulma chewed at her lip nervously. "I… I thought you were dead," she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. "I was just a little startled to see you again… I mean, that you're here…" She trailed off, a blush staining her cheeks. "Alive…"

Vegeta ignored the fact that the wish to raise all of Frieza's victims had included him too, deciding that he'd rather mess with the woman's mind a little. "Awww, did you miss me, Woman?" he taunted, tipping her chin up to make her meet his gaze. "Or was it the thought of something else you missed?" he purred in a husky voice. His finger ran along her jaw line toward her neck.

Bingo. Score one for Vegeta! He laughed openly at the irritation that flashed in her eyes. He hadn't come across a woman with this much spirit in quite some time. While he was loathe to admit it, he was actually beginning to find this little blue-haired vixen attractive, perhaps even alluring.

"Pervert!" she hissed, pulling out of his grasp as if his touch had scalded her. "What do I care if you're alive or dead?"

Vegeta chuckled as her face turned an even deeper shade of red. "Avoiding the subject, I see." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down his royal nose at her.

She opened her mouth to give him a scathing reply when an indignant shout came from behind them. "Hey! I told you to leave Bulma alone!" Gohan's voice wavered with nervousness, but he took his best fighting stance. "You'd better not have hurt her!"

"Impudent little whelp!" Vegeta moved toward Gohan but was interrupted by Bulma stepping in his path and placing her palms on his chest to stop him.

"Let me handle this one, okay?" she whispered in his ear before backing off a step and giving him a knowing look. "Trust me on this- he'll talk." Her lips moved, but no sound was heard.

Vegeta inhaled deeply and let the breath out in a long sigh. It wasn't as though he cared if the little half-breed waste of genetics talked. "Fine," he growled, storming off. "Just keep that brat out of my way."

"Bulma!" Gohan ran over to Bulma, who dropped to her knees and took him into her arms. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you? I was so scared when I saw him flying away with you on Namek."

Bulma forced a smile. "No, no! Gohan, I'm fine, trust me." She grasped the sides of his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "He didn't hurt me. Honest."

Gohan didn't look convinced. "Well, okay, but if he does I'll fight him," he declared.

Bulma let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head. _Saiyans! Always wanting to fight. But considering how easily Vegeta took down Gohan on Namek without even using his hands, I think we'd best avoid that._ "You won't need to do that, lil' buddy," she assured him. "See? I'm alive, kickin' and no worse for wear." She stood up, hands on hips, acting tough. "Honest!" He still didn't look convinced. "Listen sweetie, let me handle Vegeta, okay? You know that your mom and everyone else will only get upset and cause problems if you go telling them that Vegeta hurt me when he didn't. Then he'll get mad-"

"Yeah, and blow something up or twist somebody's head off," Gohan finished, interrupting her.

"And we want to avoid that, right? Everything's fine, Gohan. Trust me." Bulma frowned. "I'm just worried about how to get everyone home and situated, and how to tell your mom that..." She paused. What was she supposed to say? "We need to tell your mother that your father is dead," didn't seem very tactful or loving at the moment. "How to break all of this to your mother," she finally finished.

Gohan turned and walked away. "I don't even want to think about that right now," he murmured in a sad voice.

"I know, kiddo. Your dad was a good friend of mine, too. We'll think of something," Bulma mused, trying to keep her tears at bay. "I just don't know what." King Kai had gotten in touch with her after they'd arrived back on Earth to tell her about Goku's death and the destruction of Namek, and considering the way the Namekian dragonballs worked things weren't looking too positive.

"Hey, there's got to be a way. We can't just give up," Gohan insisted. "What do you think?"

Everyone began to gather around to take part in the conversation. Even Vegeta was lurking nearby, trying to take in any little bit of information on Goku that he could. If there was even a chance that the third-class warrior was still alive he'd take it, and get him to tell how he'd managed the transformation to Super Saiyan.

"Gohan, King Kai was pretty clear on the matter. We could probably wish Chaotzu back because he died on Earth. But I'm afraid it's a completely different matter with your dad and Krillin," Bulma began. The Nameks gathered closer to listen.

Vegeta rolled his eyes as the woman began some idiotic analogy with the dragon being compared to a hen with no place to lay her eggs, represented by Kakarrot and Krillin, and the resultant offspring dying from the cold. _Chickies? What the hell is this woman babbling about?_

"That's awful! Gosh!" Gohan gasped.

"I'm sorry, Gohan. I know it's hard," Bulma agreed, trying to sound positive despite the situation. "Your dad's a really good egg-"

Vegeta decided he'd had enough. The answer was staring them right in the face; couldn't they see that? "Fools!" he accused in a loud, mocking voice.

"Wha-?" Bulma turned to see Vegeta leaning back against a different tree, his arms crossed as he smirked at them haughtily.

"Enough of this ridiculous babble!" Vegeta ignored Bulma's affronted gasp. "You want Kakarrot back, so look. The Earth has a check-in station to the third realm. Wish him there, _then_ wish him back to Earth."

Bulma digested this. "What... hey, that might work! Man, Vegeta, what a great idea! I'm impressed," she praised. _Sexy, good in the sack _and_ smart! What else could a girl ask for? Maybe I should keep him around. It would keep him out of trouble, too._ A plan began to formulate in Bulma's mind.

"Hmph!" Vegeta turned his face away haughtily.

"This is awesome! We need to gather the dragonballs," Bulma decided. She was trying valiantly to keep her mind on the matter at hand and off of inviting the moody Saiyan prince to her home, and perhaps help him find a suitable sleeping arrangement- _Stop it, Bulma! Now isn't the time or place to get all hot and bothered!_ she scolded herself.

Gohan approached Vegeta a little cautiously. He was unsure of how the older Saiyan would act, especially since he'd just confronted the man not even five minutes ago. He seemed rather disagreeable at the moment. Then again, he'd never even seen the man smile, unless it was maliciously. He decided to take a chance. His mother had taught him that if someone did something good for you, you must always express your gratitude to them. Here Vegeta, who didn't seem to like his dad at all, had offered an idea that just might work to get him back. "Thank you very much!" He extended his hand and smiled with sincere thanks.

"Don't get carried away!" Vegeta responded with an annoyed snort. He brushed Gohan off with a wave of his hand in the boy's face. "Bunch of softies!"

Bulma looked at Vegeta, wide-eyed. _What have I gotten myself into?_ her mind screeched. _Would it be a mistake to invite him to live with me? But he's so cute!_ it wailed back. _Where else would he go? And he's incredible in the sack. Wait, I guess I don't exactly know _that_ for sure yet-_ She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it, her cheeks flushing pink. She was doing it again! _Stop it Bulma! Concentrate on the important things right now._

Vegeta noticed the woman staring at him and scowled at her, fixing her intently with intense dark eyes. _Those fools! I'm not interested in helping Kakarrot. I want to learn his secret. I want to know how he became a Super Saiyan so I can do it too. Why is that idiot woman still staring at me?_ He snickered to himself when she suddenly snapped out of it and shook her head, looking away from him, a blush playing at her cheeks.

"Excuse me, Ms B, but we have a request we'd like to make."

"Huh?" Bulma turned to see Moori, the eldest remaining Namek, standing behind her.

"We plan to use our dragonballs to relocate to another planet, but finding a suitable home is going to take time. Do you know of a place where we can stay temporarily until we can make other arrangements?" the elder Namek asked.

Bulma thought about it. Where _would_ they go? They were pretty much in the same boat as Vegeta- oh! "Gosh... Hey, I know! Just stay with me!" she offered cheerfully.

"No, we mustn't impose," Moori objected, a worried by the thought of the problems that a group their size would present. At least they didn't need to worry about food.

Bulma found herself all geared up to play the hostess, especially if the Nameks wouldn't be the only ones. "Aww, hey, it's really no biggie. It's the least I can do for you all. Besides, you need a major credit card to stay in a hotel." The Nameks were obviously clueless as to what she was talking about, so she just shrugged it off and continued. "Hey, no worries. My dad's compound is huge. There's enough room for everyone. It's not like you guys have a lot of options," she coaxed softly. "Green men from outer space aren't a common sight around here."

"Oh, gosh. I see your point. We... accept," Moori decided.

_This is gonna be fun._ Bulma turned to the moody Saiyan still leaning on the same tree. "What about you? Hey, homeboy!" she called over to Vegeta flirtatiously.

"Huh-" Vegeta looked at the crazy woman wide-eyed surprise. Was she flirting with him in front of all of these people? He found the very thought of it disconcerting. "What? Homeboy?" He scowled at her in an attempt to discourage her.

Bulma obviously didn't get it. "Hey, loosen up. You're going to need a place to crash, too," she pointed out.

Vegeta turned his head away again. It wasn't as though he needed anyone's help, especially a lowly human's help, to survive. He _was_ the Prince of Saiyans, after all. "Hmph!"

Bulma wasn't about to let his macho poop attitude get her down. "Hey, why don't you drop the arrogant tough guy act and just relax. Let it all go, take a vacation for goodness sake!" she exclaimed with a smile. She placed her hands on her hips, accentuating what she knew he had on his mind. "Unwind a little and see what life has to offer you." She giggled at a thought that came to mind, and decided to do it. There was always the risk he might get angry by it, but it just might let _him_ know what _she_ had on her mind. "You're actually kind of cute," she declared, laughing at his horrified expression.

"What!? Kind of _cute?"_ Vegeta grimaced at the crazy woman, his teeth gritted. Now everyone would think that he liked this idiot if he accepted her offer. "Bonehead!"

Bulma turned back to group, ignoring his obvious displeasure. "All right then! It's all settled. I'm going to go call my dad and have him pick all of us up!" she announced.

"Thank you so much," Moori told her hesitantly. This certainly took a load off of his mind.

* * *

"All right! Yo, Dad!" Bulma waved her arms to attract the attention of the approaching aircraft. "We're down here!"

_As if anyone could miss her with that loud mouth of hers_, Vegeta mused sarcastically. However, the thought of what that mouth could do and the insinuations she'd made earlier made him think twice about commenting.

The aircraft landed and the door had hardly opened when Chi-Chi came rushing out.

"Gohan, it's Mommy!" The Nameks watched as Chi-Chi frantically surveyed the area. "Huh? Hey, where is he?" Noticing her son standing against a tree, she ran over to him excitedly. "Gohan, it's you!"

"Uh-huh." Gohan rubbed the back of head in a manner very reminiscent of his late father.

"My son!" Chi-Chi oozed proudly.

Gohan knew everyone was watching her crazed behavior and couldn't help but feel embarrassed. _Kami, Mom! I'm home, I'm alive. Get over it already!_ "Yup, that's me..."

"C'mon, everyone! All aboard!" Bulma called out, waving everyone towards the aircraft. "Let's go home."

* * *

They were standing on the grounds of Bulma's home. Vegeta had to admit that the woman was correct- it was huge. That being the case, he wouldn't be obligated to be near the detestable Nameks until the time their dragonballs were ready to use and they'd be out of his hair.

He was looking forward to surveying the grounds, as they too appeared to be quite vast. From the looks of things, he would probably not have too much difficulty finding a private place to practice his katas.

Bulma's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Well guys, this is going to be your new home for a while. It's not the Taj Mahal, but I think you're gonna like it," she announced proudly.

The next thing he knew, a blonde woman even who appeared to be even crazier than the blue-haired woman rushed up to him and got right up in his face, her hands clasped. "Hi, are you the one who helped Goku save my beautiful little girl from those horrible men? You should get a medal. You're a hero!" she cooed.

Vegeta backed off, horrified. This was the woman's mother? Her simpering was even more obnoxious than the woman's loud mouth! "What? Hero?" He wasn't used to this kind of behavior directed to him and again found it disconcerting. Perhaps staying here would be a bad idea after all- "A ship!" he exclaimed, suddenly distracted from the blonde woman's attentions. He headed over to inspect the capsule, noisy females temporarily forgotten.

"She's a real beauty."

Vegeta turned when he heard the voice of the woman's father behind him. This one didn't seem to share the odd behavioral patterns displayed by his mate and daughter, and if he had indeed built this ship, Vegeta decided he might actually benefit by listening to what the older man had to say.

Dr. Briefs regarded his ship with pride. "She's got advanced super-tronics, a self-generating laser-power reactor, and a stereo system that will bring the house down," he informed the obviously interested prince. He knew very well who this sullen young man was, having received a briefer from his daughter, and decided that if she had indeed invited him to live here it might be in his best interests to attempt to form a good rapport with the man. He didn't intend it to be a father-son relationship or even friends, but more of a respect issue. If the boy liked spaceships, well then, that was a common interest he could build on, wasn't it?

After having seen Vegeta's reaction to being bombarded by his excitable wife, the perceptive doctor decided to take advantage of this ideal situation by introducing him to the ship, then leaving him be. "I built Capsule Three here and a couple others like it myself. Well, Bulma did have quite a bit of involvement too, since machines are her forte just like her dad's, so if you have any questions please feel free to ask either of us." He gestured toward the ship to indicate that Vegeta should go inside, watching the young man's eyebrow raise as he did so. "Go on, take a look inside," he insisted.

"I think I will," Vegeta agreed, pleased by the older man's respectfulness as he nodded and wandered back toward the others. He went inside and immediately headed for the control panel, letting his fingers wander over the various controls. "Not bad! I bet Kakarrot used a ship just like this," he murmured, finding himself duly impressed. Perhaps he could use a ship like this one day-

"Hi Vegeta, come on out!" Vegeta jumped, startled to hear Mrs. Briefs' voice assail his ears. _Where is the woman? She isn't aboard the ship- oh, no, not here as well!_ His eyes widened as he realized that the cheery voice was coming from the control panel itself. A small screen on the panel showed her with a tray of beverages in her hands, which she held up for his inspection. "Cold drinks for everyone! I made you a Shirley Temple!" she sang.

Vegeta couldn't hold back his grimace, and his nose wrinkled up as she giggled. There was no place to hide; even in the cold confines of space she would be able to find him. Wait, he was the Prince of Saiyans! No crazy female was going to command him, and he certainly wouldn't hide, either. "I do not want your Shirley Temple, Woman," he told her coldly.

She just giggled. "That's fine, dear. I can get you something else. Bulma, dear! Did you want this Shirley Temple?" she asked, turning her attention away from whatever recording device was being used to transmit her message.

Feeling quite unsettled, Vegeta ducked out of the capsule ship and took to the air and away from the crowd of people gathered on the lawn. Now would be just as good of a time as any to find a suitable training spot.

* * *

"All right, I think that's it. Does everyone have a room?" Mrs. Briefs beamed. "If so, we'll have lunch!"

There were general nods of agreement. "I think we are all set, Mrs. Briefs," Moori told her. "However, Namekians do not require sustenance-"

"Oh, pish-posh!" Mrs. Briefs giggled as the group headed down the stairs. "You all must be famished!" She hummed happily to herself as she entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. "Oh, my... I really must go grocery shopping."

"I'd be happy with another milkshake for now, Mrs. Briefs," Dende offered, shooting his fellow Namekians a hopeful look.

"Really? Oh, I can handle that. What flavor would you like?"

Vegeta peered in through the kitchen window, noting the interaction going on and glad he was not a part of it. "Hmph. Insane female." He had made a brief inspection of the facilities and determined that he could make use of some of the available equipment, if it were modified to suit his needs. That large vehicle they arrived in and the space ship that the woman's father had shown him, for instance, could better be used as a private place to do his katas. He had found another place to use until that could be arranged. For now, he was going to avoid contact with these idiotic humans, especially the blonde one. She actually put him on edge the way she pawed over him.

Hmph.

He spied the nearby woods and blasted off toward them, grinning evilly. Perhaps he could find an animal unfortunate enough to serve as his afternoon meal that day. His stomach growled irritably at the thought and he picked up the pace.

* * *

Vegeta arrived back at Capsule Corp after dark and landed at the window where he'd watched the Namekians being tormented by the blonde woman. There was just a little bit of light shining from it, and he thought he might be able to get in that way. Unfortunately for him it was locked, as was the door. "Stupid humans! Inviting me, the Prince of Saiyans, to stay here and then locking me out! I should just blast my way in," he growled. He decided against it, however; he didn't need that kind of attention this late at night. Concentrating, he sought out the blue-haired woman's ki. It was weak but he managed to locate it. She would provide him with a room and needed sustenance. He smirked. And maybe something else he wanted. That had certainly been on his mind all day. Blast that little vixen and her innuendos!

He landed on the balcony outside the room he'd felt her ki emanate from and noted pleasantly that the doors were cracked ever so slightly open, allowing the tiniest bit of a gentle breeze into the room. He went inside and pushed the doors back the way they were. He didn't need her screeching if she noticed he'd come in that way.

Not that it made any difference what she felt. Why was he even contemplating that? No matter. As soon as she gave him what he needed, she could go back to sleep. His lip curled up in a sneer. Maybe...

* * *

"Huh? Wha-"

The hand on her shoulder shook her again. "Woman, wake up!"

"Vegeta?" Bulma sat up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. "What are you doing in my bedroom? Why don't you go to bed like everyone else instead of waking me up at..." She looked over at her bedside table and sighed when she saw the glowing digits of her alarm clock. "It's almost two in the morning!" she complained groggily. "Don't Saiyans sleep?"

He crossed his arms. "I do not have a room to sleep in," he responded curtly. "I suggest that you remedy the situation immediately."

Bulma leaned over to turn on the lamp next to her bed and squinted as her eyes readjusted to its light. "What do you mean you don't have a room? Where were you when we found rooms for everyone else?"

"Hmph." Vegeta wasn't about to tell her that he'd been out wandering the grounds and had actually found them acceptable for the time being. He didn't owe her any explanations; she owed him courtesy as her guest- a _royal_ guest, at that! "None of your concern. Now just find me a place to sleep."

"Oh, for Kami's sake," Bulma complained. She yawned. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now," she muttered, laying back down and rolling onto her side away from him.

He was about to yell at her for turning her back on him and ignoring the needs of a person of importance such as himself when she reached back behind herself and patted the mattress. "No nudity. Now lie down and go to sleep, will you? I'm _yawn_ exhausted." She reached over and turned off the light then settled back down onto the mattress.

_She's _inviting_ me into her bed? This may not be such a bad night after all._ Smirking, Vegeta removed his clothes and climbed into the bed next to her. The thought of a long night of hot and heavy sex with this intriguing woman definitely appealed to him, especially if she had any more little tricks up her sleeves to 'teach' him. He could feel himself rapidly becoming aroused at the mere thought of her warm, supple body beneath his, her long legs wrapped around his waist, her moans of pleasure as he took her. Reaching out to her, he was disappointed and frustrated to find that she had already fallen back asleep.

Vegeta scowled and leaned back against one of the pillows on the bed. _I want to get off, damn it, and I want it right now! _He looked over at the blue-haired woman asleep in the bed with him. He had noticed when the lamp was on that she was wearing clothing which left very little to the imagination and he was certainly imagining what he wanted to do to that body. He had to be inside her soon as his arousal was reaching an almost painful state.

_She said she wanted to sleep. She never said anything about keeping my hands off of her._

* * *

Bulma woke up to Vegeta's touch again, only this time he wasn't exactly shaking her. He had tugged open the satiny top she had on and was touching and nuzzling her hungrily.

"Uhn... no, Vegeta... sleeping!" she protested, giving him a gentle push up off of her. "Go back to sleep." Bulma wasn't opposed to having sex with the Saiyan prince again; in fact, part of the reason she hadn't just tossed him a pillow and a blanket and showed him to the nearest couch was the remembrance of their tryst on Namek. How handsome she'd found him, how wonderfully built he was, how marvelously he'd caught on to what she'd shown him, the feeling of being held in those strong arms as the afterglow of that last incredible orgasm washed over her. It really had been the best she'd experienced. She had known that she would never experience that feeling again after he'd been killed by Frieza, but when she'd discovered that he really _was_ alive again, it had quelled up the desire for more of the same within her mind.

Vegeta growled impatiently. "Woman, you invited me into your bed and now you're changing your mind?"

Bulma sighed, pulling her clothes back on. "Vegeta, you need to learn that here on Earth there are ways you can greatly increase the odds of getting what you want based on how you ask, not just what it is you want." She turned the bedside lamp back on and sat up to face him.

"Good," Vegeta agreed, much to her surprise. "You can tell me about it tomorrow." With that, he reached over and pulled her into his arms. "But for now, let's just-"

"Let's just nothing!" Bulma objected, starting to become angry. She could understand why he'd just go for it the first time; after all, if he'd never had a consenting relationship with a woman before, when had he ever _not_ gotten his way? But now, to not turn him down outright and ask to sleep first only to be ignored annoyed her. "Vegeta, I told you that I'm tired. You woke me up from a good deep sleep that I haven't been able to get in Kami knows how long and wonder why I'm not chomping at the bit to have sex right now? Why can't you just go to sleep for a few hours and-"

"Because I'm horny right_ now_, damn it!" Vegeta interrupted.

Bulma glared daggers at him. "That's another thing you need to learn- how to respect the feelings and opinions of others, especially the ones who you are trying to get what it is you want from. No offense, Prince Vegeta, but here, on _my_ planet and in _my_ home, you are no more important than me or anyone else-"

Vegeta spluttered with rage. "Woman, how dare you-"

It was Bulma who interrupted him this time. "Look, if you keep being so inconsiderate and rude as to continue interrupting me and disregarding my feelings on this, I'm going to haul your sorry butt out of my room and you can go find a couch to sleep on, got it?" she snapped.

He sneered at her. "I'd like to see you try, Woman. That would be a good laugh."

Bulma ignored his comment. "I don't just invite people into my bed or even my room, you know. I could have made you sleep on a couch or the floor somewhere without so much as a pillow but since you are a guest and I do I have a very comfortable bed, as you would know if you'd just lie down and go to sleep, I said you could sleep here out of the kindness of my heart, not because I wanted to immediately start screwing you." She crossed her arms.

"I will not-"

"You _will_ shut up and let me say my piece or you _will_ find someplace else to go," Bulma retorted crisply. "I tried to tell you _nicely _that here on Earth you are of the same importance as everyone else. I'm sorry if you're having trouble accepting that, I really am, but that's the way it is. I am also telling you that I would like for you to respect my feelings about letting me sleep right now. Did I ever once say, 'Vegeta, don't touch me, I don't want to have sex with you'? Did I?"

Vegeta growled angrily at her. "I am the Prince of all Saiyans, not some child to be lectured!"

"I don't care. Answer my question. Did I ever say 'no' to you?" When it became apparent that he was not going to answer, she took it upon herself to continue. "I never said I wasn't interested, Vegeta, I merely said that I'm tired right now and I need to get some sleep. What's so difficult to understand about that?" Her voice had lost its angry tone.

Angry at being rejected, he turned his head away, refusing to look at her. "Hmph!"

She reached out to touch his arm, only to have him pull away. "Vegeta, let me tell you about how to effectively get what you want, okay?"

He stared disinterestedly at the wall.

"Did I steer you the wrong direction on Namek?" Her voice had a challenging tone to it. "No, and look what happened. We both benefited, both got what we wanted out of the situation, right?"

He let out a long sigh. "Continue."

"All right." She thought for a moment before beginning. "About how to ask for what you want, you need to realize that it's just that- _asking_ and not demanding, and then respecting the other person's point of view, even if you don't like their answer. For example, let's just suppose I am doing something that I could use some help with, say, I'm hanging a big picture on the wall, and it's heavy and awkward. I see you sitting there watching television. You could easily do this by yourself, so I'm pissed off because you're just vegetating in front of the television and not offering to help, right?"

"Continue," he grunted again.

"So tell me, Vegeta. Which way of trying to get you to do what I want you to will be more effective? Don't say anything until I've said it both ways." She smiled at him. "First: 'Vegeta, you lazy good-for-nothing lowlife! Why don't you get off that sorry, flea-bitten monkey butt of yours and earn your keep around here for once in your life!' or-"

His head whipped around to face her and he glared at her, teeth bared and fists tightly balled up, growling deep in his throat.

"Or," Bulma continued softly, reaching over to stroke his arm gently, "'Vegeta, I'm having a little trouble with this. Would you mind lending me a hand for a moment, please?' and then thanking you for your assistance when you come over? They both convey the same want, don't they? Which one would _you_ be more responsive to?"

He growled at her again.

She smiled again. "I think you have a very nice butt," she said, giggling. "I didn't see even one flea."

He crossed his arms. "Very funny, Woman."

"So now, do you see what I mean? Your feelings mattered the second time. Your opinion matters, too. What if I told you, 'Vegeta, I brought home Italian food and "Steel Magnolias" to watch while we eat.' Since 'Steel Magnolias' is what we humans refer to as a 'chick flick', naturally you would say, 'I_ hate _that movie!' and maybe you wanted Chinese food instead. What if I just said, 'Too bad, that's what you get. Like it or lump it!' What if I had called you first? Asked you, 'Hey, what are you in the mood for, Italian or Chinese food?' or even said, 'I'm sorry, next time I'll try to call first and we'll get what you want, okay?' Then what would you think?" Bulma looked over at him expectantly.

"I'd think you were either a weak, acquiescent pushover or a conniving, condescending ass kisser, depending on what exactly it was you hoped to gain out of satisfying me."

"No you wouldn't! You'd appreciate what you like being considered instead of someone else's opinion and decision being thrust upon you." Bulma took one of his hands in her own. "So do you see what I'm saying?"

"You're saying you don't want to screw," Vegeta pouted stubbornly, retrieving his hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

She shook her head, sighing. "I'm saying, what do you say we get some sleep and see what tomorrow brings us, huh?"

"Hmph."

"Now go to sleep, okay? I'm very _yawn_ tired right now." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then scooted back down underneath the covers and reached over to turn off the lamp.

Begrudgingly accepting the fact that he wasn't going to be having sex that night without a lot of trouble to be had, Vegeta laid down on his side of the mattress, muttering curses in several different languages as he did so. His hard on had been merciful enough to die on him during her little speech, so at least he didn't have to worry about taking care of that.

"Good night, Vegeta. And thanks for not blasting anything."

"Hmph."

"Sleep well. I have the feeling that tomorrow's going to be a hectic day." She felt the mattress shift as he turned over onto his side away from her. She didn't want to go to bed on bad terms, but figured he'd get over it. _It'll be a good life lesson for him. I hope he listened to at least a little of what I told him. Who knows? It's _Vegeta_ I'm talking about here._

She was just about to drift off when she heard his voice in the darkness, his words surprising the hell out of her.

"Good night, Woman."

* * *

Bulma stretched luxuriously and yawned. Bright sunlight filtered through the crack between the two panels of the curtain covering the window. _It's going to be a nice day today. Thank Kami._ She rolled over toward the other occupant of the bed, only to find that he wasn't there. "Vegeta?" The sheets on his side of the bed weren't warm with any body heat, so he hadn't just left. Even so, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

It was then that she realized that the water was running in her bathroom and that he must have gotten up to use it. The water stopped and shortly thereafter the bathroom door opened, steam rolling into the room after it. "Oh. I was beginning to wonder where..." She paused as he wandered casually back into the room.

Stark naked.

"Aww, did you get lonely without me?" Vegeta asked, unabashed by his current state of undress.

"Let me guess. You slept naked too, didn't you?" she asked dryly.

"Of course. I _did_ think we were going to screw. Besides, what did you want me to do, sleep in my dirty clothes and mess up your nice clean sheets?" he asked sarcastically.

Bulma sighed. "Okay, point taken."

He climbed back into the bed next to her and propped himself up on one elbow, his cheek resting against his palm. "So, what_ is_ tomorrow bringing, hmm?" His finger traced along the neckline of her top as he spoke, and his eyes roved over her scantily clad body.

It was obvious by his carefully phrased inquiry that he actually had paid attention to her earlier that morning and had caught at least some of the conversation. She decided to play with him a little to see just how much. He was going to _earn_ this one. "Oh, I don't know," she responded cheerfully. "I'm sure Mom won't mind making an extra helping of whatever she's cooking for you at breakfast. Then I thought we could go out and buy you some clothes." She smiled cheerfully. "Sound good to you?"

Vegeta scowled. "Shopping for clothes? But I-" _She's jerking me around, the little wench._ "Well, I suppose I _do_ need some," he said agreeably, lobbing the ball of the little game she was playing back into her own court. He preened inwardly when he noticed the tiny look of surprise that flashed across her face for the briefest of moments but managed to hide his smirk. _I shouldn't be too satisfied. She might actually be trying to get me to play her stupid game in order to 'change' me._ "I know you said today would be a hectic day, but if that's what you'd like to do, I'm fine with it."

Bulma stared blankly at him for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. "You lousy jerk! I should have known you were just mocking me!" she shouted angrily.

Vegeta was unsure whether or not she was still playing with him. "If that's the case, then are you also mocking me, Bulma?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you... wait, did you just call me Bulma?" she asked incredulously.

"That _is_ your name, is it not, Woman?" Vegeta replied matter-of-factly.

Bulma stammered for a moment. "Well, yes, but I didn't think you knew my name. I mean, you've only ever called me Woman."

Vegeta shrugged, and a sexy little smirk crept onto his face as he moved over to lean down closer toward her. "Of course I know your name, _Bulma,_" he murmured huskily, letting his lips brush against the very edge of her earlobe before moving down to tickle her neck.

She gasped, arching her back, and shuddered beneath him. "Oh- oh, Kami," she whimpered when his teeth grazed lightly over the delicate skin of her neck. She could feel herself becoming wetter by the second, heat burning between her thighs.

Vegeta's chuckle rumbled against her neck. "No, but you have my rank correct," he purred. "Do you like how I play your little game, hmm?" He trailed feather light kisses up her jaw line.

Bulma gasped.

"Ah, I see that you do," he continued in a deep voice. "So, I take it that I've passed the pop quiz?" He lifted his lips from her neck and raised up his body to lean over above her, triumphant smirk firmly in place. "There's plenty more where that came from, _Bulma_, if you're interested."

"D-damn you, you're a fast learner," Bulma managed before his mouth descended down to cover hers hungrily. She moaned with pleasure when his hands started to wander, but soon his touch became rougher and he began to literally tear the lingerie she wore from her body.

"Mm- wait!" She managed to separate his lips from hers long enough to speak. "Wait a minute, Vegeta," she gasped, breathing heavily.

"What now?" he growled. "I want-"

"Yes, I know what you want," she interrupted, looking up at him with a perturbed expression on her face. "But do you also want little Vegetas running around, hmm?" His expression told all, because she leaned over to her nightstand and pulled open a drawer, fishing around in it. "Ah, here we are," she announced, handing him a small, flat square object. "Use this."

He eyed it warily. "What the hell is it?"

_Obviously he's never used one, Bulma!_ "It's a condom, see?" she explained, tearing open the little foil square and pulling out a round object. She unrolled it a little. "See how it unrolls like this? You just stick it on your-"

"Get away with that! Are you seriously suggesting that you want to put thatthing... not a chance!"

"Yes, I am serious."

"What kind of crazy human ritual is this?"

Bulma sighed, reaching up and stroking a finger along his jaw line to calm him. "It's not a ritual. It helps to prevent pregnancy. Unless, of course, you actually _want_ me to get pregnant?"

The thought was as distasteful to him as the asinine little round thing she wanted him to use. "No, I do _not_," he growled.

"Vegeta," she murmured in a sultry voice, "you've gotten me all hot and bothered, you know. I wouldn't mind continuing this." She looked up at him, licking her lips flirtatiously. Her finger reached up to trace a line over the muscles of his chest. "What about you? It's such a _little_ thing."

He inhaled, closing his eyes, when he felt her soft hands touching him gently. When she had finished she reached up to wrap her arms around his torso, pulling him back down to her.

"Now, one more thing. I want it soft," she murmured, kissing him softly on the lips. "Slow..." She kissed him again, a little longer this time. "Sensual."

* * *

"Woman, why are you crying?" Vegeta looked with confusion at the woman in his arms. He had submitted to her desires- why that was, he didn't know- and done it slow and gently the way she had wanted instead of the hot and rough way he was used to. He had used the absurd round thing she had insisted upon. He was holding her in his arms as she wanted. What _else_ could it possibly be? "What else do you want?"

Bulma sniffled, raising her eyes to look up at his face. "No, no... you misunderstand," she answered, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm crying because that was beautiful. Because I'm just overwhelmed by how wonderful you were." She snuggled her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Vegeta frowned. He had experienced women crying in his presence before, but never because they thought he was wonderful. They were always afraid of what he was going to do to them, of their impending deaths. This wasn't something that he was used to and he didn't quite know how to deal with it. As she snuggled closer to him, he unconsciously tightened his grip on her.

She raised her head back up from his chest and he looked down at her again. She gave him a watery smile as another tear rolled down her cheek. Without even thinking about it, he caught it with one thumb, then realized what he'd just done. Embarrassed by his weak behavior, he was about to push her away when she sat up a little more and cupped the side of his face with one hand.

"Vegeta," she whispered, mistaking his behavior for uncertainty. "You really were wonderful. I want more." She lay back down on the sheets, pulling him along with her. "Make love to me again."

His eyebrow rose. He was about to object that what they had just done had nothing to do with such a foolish emotion as what humans called 'love' and that he was just using her body to satisfy his own needs when she gave him a sultry look and pressed herself up against him, humming in pleasure in his ear. "Make love to me, Vegeta," she demanded, more forcefully this time. Curious to see just how much she could get away with, her teeth caught his earlobe and bit down on it.

Evidently, it wouldn't be very much.

He jumped, startled, and a feral look crossed his face. This woman had no concept of what she was doing as far as Saiyan mating habits went, but her behavior seriously turned him on nonetheless. "I hope you don't want it all soft and cozy again, _Bulma_, because by the time I'm through with you, you'll be begging me for mercy." His teeth grazed her neck, and he grinned when she shuddered beneath him.

"Mmmm... think so?" Bulma let out a throaty giggle and wrapped her arms around him, trailing her nails down his back, then twitched in surprise when she felt his body respond against hers. "Oooh... that was quick." She gave him a knowing little smile. "Do your worst, you bad, _bad_ man," she purred as her hand came down on his backside.

_slap!_

Maybe she'd get away with a little more than she'd originally thought.

He grabbed her hands and held them above her head. "You're asking for trouble, Woman!"

Bulma giggled throatily. "Promise?" She kissed her lips at him and winked.

Vegeta just stopped himself from blinking in surprise. The woman was trying to goad him! "Oh, I promise, don't you worry about that," he assured her, bringing his mouth down to ravage hers.

* * *

"Are you sure you won't come back in the shower? I'll scrub your back for you..."

"I already had a shower, Woman. I'm-"

"You're turning down an offer for fun in the shower after you already spent the last two hours having hot sex. I guess I can see how you'd be tired. Funny, I'm not." Bulma hid her smile when the shower door slid open and merely continued shampooing her hair.

"Hmph." Vegeta crossed his arms, but his glare quickly dissolved as he watched her rinse the shampoo out of her hair, streams of bubbles running down her body.

She opened one eye and looked up at him. "Come here, and I'll suds _you_ up, big guy."

Vegeta found himself ignoring the part of his mind that was screaming at him that he, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, was taking orders from a weak human female, in favor of the part which was screaming at him that he would be an absolute _idiot_ not to take what the woman was offering him. Since when did he ever have a woman actually _trying_ to seduce him? As for this woman, not only had she willingly brought him pleasure unlike any other woman ever had but she was achingly beautiful as well. Even as an alien, he could have easily seen her as part of the royal harem-

He willed the thought from his mind. What was he thinking?

"Vegeta?"

"Hmm?" He snapped out of his reverie as her wet arms slid around him and her body pressed against his. "I promise you'll love it."

"I was just... ohh..." His eyes closed when her teeth nipped playfully at one nipple and he tensed up, despite his best efforts to the contrary.

Bulma giggled and pulled him underneath the water. "May I wash you, my Prince?" She giggled again.

Vegeta smirked at her. "Now you're learning, Woman."

Bulma snorted. "Surrrre. It's not all that hard to butter you up, you know." She returned the smirk and squeezed some shampoo into her hand. "Now, if you can learn what the expression 'I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine' means, we'll be in business." She smiled at him. "Come here." Reaching up, she rubbed the shampoo on his head and began to massage it onto his scalp in little circles. "Oh Vegeta, you're so tense. Relax and enjoy it," she soothed.

Again he did as she asked and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax, finding that he actually _did_ enjoy her ministrations. Without realizing it, he let out a long sigh.

She said nothing but only smiled and continued on a little longer before gently pushing him back underneath the water. "Keep your eyes closed so you don't get soap in them and I'll rinse your hair," she directed. _How long has it been since someone took care of him, I wonder? And has anyone ever done so because they actually wanted to, or was it out of duty?_ she thought soberly. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, rinsing the suds from it, then guided him out from beneath the water. "Okay, conditioner."

His eyes opened. "Hm?"

She rubbed the thick substance through his hair. "You use it after shampoo to make your hair soft and manageable," she told him, "because shampoo tends to strip natural oils from hair." She smiled. "Although, I was surprised that yours is so soft. At first glance, I thought it would be stiff and coarse, but it's not. You have hair that most women would kill for. Long, thick, soft and healthy."

He smirked at her. "I _am_ a Saiyan," he reminded her, "and as royalty, I was bred with the best genes available."

"Bred?" Bulma looked at him curiously as she applied conditioner to her own hair. "You mean your mother was carefully selected?"

He shook his head. "Saiyans were grown in gestation cylinders. We were not birthed the way humans are."

"Royalty, or everyone?" Bulma asked, fascinated.

"All Saiyan females who became pregnant had their unborn brats transferred to gestation cylinders," Vegeta informed her. "It has been done that way for generations."

"Why?"

"The Saiyans were a warrior race. What good is a pregnant female on the battlefield, or a male at home looking after his mate to ensure her survival?" he asked her pointedly. "As for me, while I developed, my mother would not be burdened by carrying me, nor would there be any risk to both her life and mine should someone choose to assassinate a member of the royal family."

"Oh. Wow. I never thought about it that way," Bulma mused. She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I can see why it would have been especially important for you, though. I personally took self-defense lessons, which actually saved my butt on one occasion in particular."

"What's so special about you?" Vegeta asked snidely. "You aren't royalty."

"Hello? Haven't you noticed this place? My parents are loaded, so I might as well be royalty," Bulma responded back just as snidely. "As for me, I just so happen to be the richest independently wealthy woman in Western Country." She paused for a moment. "On the planet, even, I think."

Vegeta found himself astonished as he watched her finish coating her hair with conditioner. "You?"

"Me." She grabbed a shower puff and squirted a healthy dose of gel onto it. "Why do you keep wandering off?" she asked, giggling as she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. "Come here so I can wash you." She squeezed the puff to make it lather and ran it along his body in little circles. "Mmmm... isn't that nice?"

Vegeta exhaled slowly, enjoying the feel of her hands lathering up his body. "Hmmm, yes..." He shook his head slightly. "Fine, Woman. Continue."

Bulma tried not to be too disappointed. She'd get him to lighten up and enjoy life if it was the last thing she did. She wanted to know about him, hear his stories, what his goals in life were now that Frieza was gone. She wanted to see him smile, hear him laugh. She knew little of this man but did know that accomplishing any of those things with him would be no easy feat. "When I was very little, my father invented something that made this company what it is today," she told him. "My father is a scientist and an extremely intelligent man, as I'm sure you noticed. He built all of those ships he showed you earlier, and invented a lot of the equipment they use. When he invented capsules, it revolutionized technological world like nothing else anyone had ever seen. It'll take something to stop the world from turning before someone one-ups capsule technology." She realized that she'd stopped lathering up the Saiyan standing with her and moved behind him to do his back.

"Capsules?" Vegeta asked. "Explain."

"Capsules are little containers that reduce the size of any object to a very small space. Almost anything can be kept inside. We haven't tried anything _living_, and I don't really want to, ugh. But you just press the trigger and toss down the capsule, and poof! There's your object," Bulma explained. "They're very useful when transporting oversized objects or a large quantity of items all at once. They make grocery shopping a breeze. I even encapsulate my car sometimes." She reached the bottom of his back and ran the puff lightly over the dark scar at his hips. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he responded in a low voice. "Not unless the spot is struck directly-" _Why am I telling her this? It's none of her business._ "Never mind, Woman," he snapped. "Just continue."

"All right." Bulma sighed and squatted down to wash the backs of his legs. She ran the puff lightly over a scar on one thigh. Her curiosity almost got the better of her but she fought back the question. He was already perturbed by her innocent question about the spot where his tail had once been. There would be other times to ask. "Turn around and I'll do the front of your legs," she directed.

Again he did as she requested and turned to face her. The fact that he was enjoying her pampering despite his feigned nonchalance was obvious; there was no way she could miss it in her current position. She smiled and gave him another knowing little look before continuing on with her task. "Hmmm... maybe we should do this more often," she purred softly, running the puff higher up his legs.

Vegeta's eyes had closed and he opened one when she brushed the puff against him deliberately. "Don't tease, Woman."

"Why not?" Bulma giggled.

He reached down and pulled her to her feet, then pressed her up against the wall of the shower. She yelped when the cool tiles came in contact with her warm skin and jerked away from it reflexively, and right into him. "Oooh, that's cold! Don't do that!"

"Why not?" Vegeta countered slyly. He pressed closer to her, wrapping his arms around her to keep her body from coming in direct contact with the wall and pull her flush against him.

She giggled again and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth closer to kiss him. He ground his hips against hers, his mouth demanding more intimate access to hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Updated: 1/4/09

AN: I don't have much to say this time around except that I hope everyone who has read this story so far has been enjoying it. I know that so far it doesn't exactly follow the story summary that I gave it, but unfortunately for Vegeta it definitely will soon enough. These first few chapters are laying the groundwork. Next to come will be some more major character development, then the angst will start and the summary will make sense. ;) Let me know what you think! Any thoughts would be appreciated.

Special thanks go to my better half for reading this for me and offering several particularly good suggestions.

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Three

"Mom, do we have anything that Vegeta can wear until I can get him his own stuff?" Bulma asked. She took a piece of fruit from the bowl on countertop and began to nibble on it.

"What's he wearing now?" Mrs. Briefs turned away from the stove to see their scowling guest wearing one of her husband's terry cloth bathrobes which, because of his heavily muscled build, was far too small for him. "Oh no, you can't wear that all day, dear," she agreed with a giggle. "Let's see... It's a nice day out. I know. You could wear a pair of shorts that I just bought for Bulma's father. I don't know about the shirts, though. They'd probably be too small for a strong young man like you," she contemplated.

"Whatever," Vegeta groused. "As long as I don't end up looking like an old geezer."

Mrs. Briefs burst out into peals of laughter. "Oh my, but you're such a delightful young man," she decided. "You and Bulma go ahead and sit down. Breakfast is almost ready." She hummed contentedly to herself as she transferred food from pots on the stove into serving bowls and set them on the table.

Bulma frowned. "Moooom! Come on. Couldn't we have something traditionally breakfasty for breakfast today?" she complained, eyeing the meal her mother was placing on the table.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Mrs. Briefs sounded confused. "Rice is traditional breakfast food-"

"I know that, Mom. I meant pancakes, or waffles, or muffins," Bulma interrupted. "We eat rice all of the time. Why not some Eastern fare once in a while?"

Mrs. Briefs thought about it. "I suppose I could make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow," she agreed. "For now, is this okay?"

Vegeta's stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food on the table. "I don't care what it is," he retorted. "I'm hungry." He sat himself down at the table.

"I guess that answers that question," Bulma mused, taking a seat next to him.

* * *

Vegeta stared at the long, smooth wooden sticks that lay across the upper edge of his plate. "What the hell are these for?" he asked, picking them up to inspect them.

"They're chopsticks," Bulma informed him. "Watch what I do." She picked her own pair up and skillfully proceeded to demonstrate their use.

Vegeta watched her skeptically. "You expect me to eat in a civilized fashion with a couple of twigs?" he scoffed.

"If you can't manage the chopsticks I'll get you a knife and fork," Bulma retorted, obviously insulted by the dig at her culture.

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do," he snapped, snatching up the offending 'twigs' and positioning them between his fingers.

"Like this," Bulma said softly, showing him again. "It just takes a little practice." She took his hand in hers and positioned the chopsticks.

Vegeta scowled as he watched the woman demonstrate how to properly pick up food with her own two sticks. He wasn't coordinating this right.

"Vegeta?" Bulma watched him stare at his chopsticks for a moment before switching them from his right hand to his left. "Oh! You're left-handed. Well, just do everything opposite, see?"

He snorted at her feeble attempt to eat with the 'twigs' using her left hand. "I think you were better off before, Woman," he commented dryly as she accidentally sent food flying across the table.

Bulma decided not to become offended again by her guest's behavior. He wasn't used to being cordial, had just been through a horrific experience involving his own death, for Kami's sake, and was suddenly forced to adjust to life on a completely different planet and its culture. She really should just cut the poor man some slack. She allowed a giggle instead, trying to lighten the mood. "You think?"

He gave her a sideways look.

"It's just an expression. Of course you think," Bulma murmured, laying a hand over his. "Let's try this again." She placed the chopsticks between her fingers. "Don't move both of them. Just this one, see? And we pick up the food or scoop it up. You shouldn't stab your food with them." She winced; he had been doing just that.

He growled. _This is ridiculous!_ "How am I supposed to eat tiny little grains of rice with these?"

* * *

Vegeta finished his fourth serving of food and laid the chopsticks down across the top of his plate as he'd seen Bulma and her mother do. Once he'd gotten the concept of chopsticks down, he'd become quite adept with them rather quickly. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and let out a satisfied sigh. The Prince of All Saiyans would let nothing come between himself and his food, especially eating utensils, no matter how odd he had originally found them to be.

"Have you had enough, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully. "I can get you something else if you're still hungry."

"I am adequately satisfied, yes," Vegeta responded. "The meal was tastefully prepared and provided the needed sustenance."

"Oh, wonderful! I'm glad." Mrs. Briefs beamed happily, figuring that this was his way of saying he liked the meal. Such a dear boy this Vegeta was! "Bulma, why don't you take Vegeta to try on some of those clothes I was telling you about?" she suggested. "They're in a basket of laundry on my bed that I haven't put away yet."

"Okay, Mom." Bulma picked up her plate.

"No, that's all right. I'll get the dishes, dear. You take good care of our guest." Mrs. Briefs winked at her daughter. She did hope that Bulma found him attractive. He seemed to be such a keeper. And what beautiful grandchildren she'd get if Bulma did decide she liked him!

Bulma blushed. "Moooom! Come on, Vegeta. Let's go find those clothes," she grumbled, embarrassed by her mother's blatant comments. "For Kami's sake..."

Vegeta allowed her to tow him along with her, his curiosity about the odd behavior of these crazy human females winning out over propriety. "What's wrong with you, Woman?"

"Oh, Mom obviously finds you to be a 'handsome young man' who would be good for me, because she's acting so silly and dropping all of these hints," Bulma said darkly.

"Hints?"

"You know, like how she winked and said I should 'take good care' of you. Like she knows what's going on between us behind closed doors." Her blush deepened.

Vegeta's confused frown disappeared when he realized what Mrs. Briefs had meant. She wasn't referring strictly to his basic personal needs required for survival. "Ahhh... I see," he purred. "Perhaps your mother is not as silly as you think. She did, after all, recognize a good thing when she saw me. She is only looking out for her daughter's best interests." He smirked at her.

"Oh, I'm glad you're so humble," Bulma commented with a roll of her blue eyes. She sighed. "I wonder if she actually does know or if she just thinks we would make a cute couple?" She opened her parents' bedroom door and spied the basket of laundry.

_Cute, ugh!_ Vegeta followed her in and shut the door behind her. "Does it matter?" he asked in a husky voice. "Either way she is expecting that you should be 'taking care' of me if you aren't already. Sounds like a good plan to me." He maneuvered her toward the bed.

"Vegeta, eew! In my parents' room, on their bed? No way," Bulma objected. "Besides, haven't we already done it enough this morning to make you happy?"

Vegeta chuckled throatily. "You cannot get too much of a good thing, Woman," he advised her, his hands moving to undo her shirt.

Bulma blushed, flattered by the implication. "Vegeta, I- ah!" She gasped as his hand slipped inside her shirt. "J-just not here. It's too creepy."

"Hmph." Vegeta copped one last feel before retrieving his hand. "Show me the garments," he demanded.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "You're cute when you pout."

"I am not pouting," Vegeta told her, scowling. "And I most certainly am not cute."

She merely smiled demurely and pulled a pair of shorts out of the basket. "These might work," she mused, holding them up to his hips. "They have an elastic waist, which helps." She opened one of the drawers of a dresser against the wall. "Try these boxers on first."

"What for? The other garments seem to be of better quality materials than these," Vegeta objected distastefully. "These also have dots on them. They are hideous. I will not wear them." He crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Vegeta, they're undergarments meant to be worn underneath your every day clothes," Bulma explained. "No one will see them. They just keep your clothes fresher, that's all."

"Strange human customs," he complained, but slipped out of his robe and into the silk underwear anyway.

Bulma frowned. "They're too small. That can't be comfortable."

"Not really," Vegeta told her curtly. "They pinch in a very bad spot."

"I see that. We don't want to damage the goods now, do we?" Bulma purred, tossing him a wink. "Try these on instead. They're stretchier."

"What are they?" Vegeta eyed the proffered undergarment suspiciously.

"They're briefs, and they're made of cotton instead of silk, so they'll stretch a little more."

Vegeta accepted the briefs and eyed them with open distaste. "The old man has worn these?"

"Your own unworn underwear will be the first thing we buy you, okay?" Bulma promised. "Please do this for me. It's proper etiquette. Besides," she added hastily, seeing by the roll of his eyes that he didn't really care about Earth protocol involving undergarments, "while you're trying on clothes, you don't want people thinking you're too poor for underwear, do you?"

"Poor?"

"Yeah. I know Goku hated wearing underwear-"

"Give me the garment, Woman," Vegeta insisted, snatching up the briefs and slipping them on.

"Hmmm." Bulma giggled. They were snug enough that they didn't leave much to the imagination. "Nice."

"They're still too small," Vegeta noted, "although the material is more like what I am accustomed to."

"Oh, like your uniform. How could I forget?" Bulma actually wasn't likely to forget how that particular spandex garment fit any time soon. "Like I said, we'll get you something today."

There was a knock at the door. "Bulma dear, is everything all right in there?"

"Uhm, fine Mom. Don't come in yet-"

There was a squeal and a giggle from the hallway. "I told you to take care of our guest, but I didn't think you'd be so quick to-"

"Mother!" Bulma shouted, her face turning red. "I just meant that Vegeta doesn't need to model everything for you!" she exclaimed.

"Oh." Mrs. Briefs sounded disappointed. "That's too bad, dear."

Vegeta snickered. "I told you she's not as silly as you think."

Bulma ignored him and opened the door enough to peek out. "Come on, Mom. As if I'd do that in my parents' room. Gross!"

Mrs. Briefs giggled, and a naughty expression crept over her normally sweet and innocent face. "Bulma, if you knew how many rooms in this house that your father and I-"

"Okay, too much information," Bulma insisted.

"Don't worry, Woman. We will go to your room to screw if you're more comfortable with that," Vegeta commented innocently.

"Vegeta, don't encourage my mother!" Bulma went even redder as she shut the door on her excited mother. "Let's just find you something to wear and get out of here!"

* * *

They pulled up in front of West Capital Mall shortly after. "Here we are," Bulma announced. She got out of the car. "Aren't you coming?"

Vegeta scowled. There were people milling around everywhere. "This doesn't look like my idea of an enjoyable way to spend my day, Woman."

Bulma felt a rush of sympathy wash over her. He wasn't used to this kind of life and no doubt found it overwhelming. She went over to the passenger side of the vehicle and opened the door, then leaned down to talk to him. "I know, Vegeta. I'm sorry. The mall can be a little crazy at times, but it just opened not too long ago so it shouldn't be too bad yet. I'll try to get us in and out of there, I promise. Then we can go have lunch and you can do whatever you want for the rest of the afternoon."

A smirk slowly tugged at Vegeta's mouth. "Whatever I want for the rest of the afternoon, you say?"

Bulma blushed. "You're insatiable, you know that? Tell you what. I'll buy something to wear, too. For you, that is." She winked flirtatiously. "The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave."

The smirk became a broad grin and he climbed out of the vehicle. "I'm holding you to that, Woman."

Bulma pressed a button on the vehicle, causing it to disappear, and a small object lay on the pavement in its place. She felt bad when Vegeta jumped and exclaimed something in a language she did not understand.

"Damn it Woman, why didn't you tell me you were going to do that?" he complained, embarrassed by his reaction.

"I'm sorry. I guess everyone else I normally hang out with is used to it, so I forgot you're not," Bulma told him in a soft voice. "I'll tell you next time." She took his hand. "Come on, let's go inside."

Vegeta removed his hand from hers, ignoring the hurt in her eyes. "I am not a child. I do not require assistance to get to the building," he informed her.

"That's fine," she said in a quiet voice. Again, she reminded herself that he wasn't used to any of this or to being shown any type of positive attention or affection, and to be patient.

They entered the mall in silence. "We'll go get your undergarments first," Bulma finally spoke. "The best store for that is on the third floor." She turned to him. "Are you okay with elevators?"

Vegeta shrugged, having no idea what an 'elevator' was. "Whatever."

"Good. That'll be the best way. There's one over there." Bulma pointed to a nearby elevator.

"Oh, those things. I never heard them called elevators before. I detest those contraptions. Filthy boxes filled with disease-ridden people and screaming brats," Vegeta complained.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "Sometimes it seems that way. But I can't fly, so we don't have any other option but the stairs." She leaned in. "I'll make sure I get something especially sexy," She whispered. "Maybe a hot little red something-or-other."

She heard him let out a low growl and he headed for the elevator without another word.

* * *

"Do they fit?"

Vegeta smoothed the silky fabric of the boxers he was wearing. He had never owned undergarments made of silk before. Clothing, yes, when he was a very small child, but never undergarments. He decided that he did indeed like them. Silk was definitely appropriate royalty wear. "They fit," he responded from the other side of the changing room door.

"Are they comfortable? If you don't like the fabric, there are other types," Bulma suggested.

"No, the silk fabric is acceptable," he decided. "These and the stretchy ones will be fine."

Bulma was a little surprised by the pleasant tone to his voice. "Oh. Good. Okay, come on out and pick some colors, and we'll go."

To her further surprise, the changing room door opened. "Give these to the attending servant," he instructed. He held out a rumpled pile of rejected items.

Bulma giggled and took the underwear from him. "I meant get dressed again first," she told him. "But those do look nice, and comfortable too. I think you'll really like the silk." Her lips curved up. "Appropriate for royalty, hmm?"

Vegeta nodded. "It is," he agreed.

"Good." She spied the sad looking pair of briefs he'd worn to the store on a chair in the corner of the room. "Here, give me those and I'll tell the salesman that you'll wear the ones you have on out."

He handed her the underpants, which she shoved into her purse with a little giggle. "Okay, let's get going. We still have lots to look at."

"Including my something for you for me," Vegeta reminded her. He unabashedly pulled on his shorts without bothering to close the door.

_At least no one else is in here right now._ "I haven't forgotten," she told him softly. His voice had had a definite suggestive tone to it, and she wondered if he really did desire her all that much or if he just found her to be a convenient sexual outlet. Either way, she couldn't help but blush.

He saw it and smirked at her as he shoved his feet into the loafers they'd found in Dr. Briefs' closet. "Let's go, Woman."

"So, did you find anything you liked, sir?" the salesman oozed as they exited the dressing room area. His voice made Vegeta's skin crawl; it reminded him of some of the soldiers he'd purged planets with who preferred males over females when indulging in their pleasures.

And of someone else he couldn't stand. Vegeta barely managed to suppress a shudder of revulsion, willing the unpleasant memories that were surfacing back to the recesses of his mind.

"Not these," Bulma told the man, shoving the extra underwear in his hands. "But we want some of these briefs, and he's still wearing the black silk boxers."

"Ooooh, those are nice, I agree! And I'll bet they look just smashing on!" The man chuckled. "So, how many pair of each would you like and what colors?"

Bulma turned her attention to the Saiyan standing back from them. "Vegeta?"

"I don't care. Just pick some for me."

Vegeta didn't seem to be in the same good mood that he'd been in only moments earlier, so Bulma simply bought him a varied selection of plain neutral colors and herded him out of the store. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

He could hear the concern in her voice. "Fine, Woman. Let's just hurry up so we can get out of here." It wasn't as if he was going to tell her the truth- that the effeminate traits the salesman had exhibited reminded him of Frieza and his fondness for young Saiyans that he could whip into whatever shape he desired.

Especially the ones who resisted. Those were the most delicious to tame.

"He was a little foppish, that's all. It's not like he was staring or hitting on guys or anything." Bulma shrugged. "Okay, we need to get you shoes and socks, some pants, shirts- oh! A swimsuit. I need to buy you some swim trunks. I should just take you to my tailor and have him measure you. I know, I could have him fit a suit for you! That would be sexy..."

Vegeta frowned. "Just how many garments do you think I need, Woman?"

"Just how much lingerie do you think I should buy?" Bulma countered. "I'll be shopping while you're being fitted." She winked at him.

* * *

They had been shopping for over two hours, and the iced tea Bulma drank was starting to go through her. Her eyes scanned the corridors for the restroom she knew was nearby and finally spied it. "Oh, a restroom with no lines. Good."

Vegeta eyed the blue-haired devil who had dragged him shopping with her. If she hauled him into one more store like the last one they'd been in, or if one more human imbecile bumped into him or absentmindedly walked in front of him while speaking into one of those annoying electronic devices everyone was using, he was going to lose it and blast them into atoms. "What are you talking about, Woman?"

"I have to go to the bathroom. Do you have to go?" Bulma shoved the capsule containing their purchases into her purse.

He frowned. "Can't you wait until we go back to your home?"

"I could if we went straight home, but don't you want to get lunch too?" she reminded him. "I have a couple of places in mind. If you don't want to eat out, I guess Mom could fix something."

Visions of a table full of idiotic Namekians unsuccessfully attempting to escape the blonde one's coaxing as she shoved food they didn't want in front of them fluttered through Vegeta's mind. Even if she wasn't annoying them, thoughts of being trapped in the house with the green beings made him cringe. The longer he could stay away from them the better- perhaps the public restrooms Bulma had told him about wouldn't be as bad as he pictured they'd be. "No, we will use these facilities," he decided. "I will wait for you here." He headed for the restrooms.

"Vegeta, wait!" Bulma rushed after him.

"What now, Woman?" he asked irritably.

She pointed as inconspicuously as possible to the next doorway over. "That one's yours."

He growled irritably. That would have been embarrassing. "I knew that, Woman." He stalked into the men's room, where a couple other men were already using the facilities. _Forced to relieve myself in plain view of other males. How primitive._ The battlefield was one thing, but this was an expensively constructed public place. He shoved the unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind and stepped up to the row of urinals, selecting the one farthest away from the door.

Two other patrons came into the restroom. One went directly into a stall and shut the door. Vegeta mentally cringed as an offensive noise and a satisfied groan of "oh, yeah..." came from inside the stall.

The other man was whistling absently to himself. He checked his appearance in one of the mirrors on the wall before heading over to the urinals.

_Don't come over next to me. Don't come over- damn it, there are four others! Why must this idiot stand directly next to me?_ Vegeta suppressed a growl. Stupid humans and their stupid customs.

The man's obnoxious whistling suddenly stopped and he gasped. "I don't believe what I'm seeing!"

The hair on the back of Vegeta's neck stood up and the urge to kill someone became even stronger. This guy would do just fine. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he snarled, quickly finishing up and stepping away. "You pervert, I ought to-" He too found himself surprised. "You! I know you! You're one of Frieza's lieutenants," he accused.

As far as anyone knew, Vegeta was one of two things to the Cold empire- a deserter or possibly dead, if word had gotten back that Frieza had killed him on Namek. It mattered little to him which that was. If this scumbag did manage to contact the Colds, they would be after him instantly. He was finally free of them. No way was he going back to being their slave.

"Isn't this my lucky day. There's a bounty on your head, and it looks as though I'll be getting that promotion I've been wanting after all." The man's eyes narrowed and he sneered.

"It'll be more like a demotion when I'm done with you," Vegeta hissed, ignoring the patrons who wisely rushed out of the restroom.

"Don't make me laugh, monkey prince," the man said mockingly. "Now, come along like a good little boy and I won't rough you up too badly."

* * *

Bulma frowned. "And here I thought women took forever in the bathroom," she muttered, looking down at her watch impatiently. "I hope he was listening when I explained-" Her head snapped up when a shout came from the men's restroom, followed by a yell that was abruptly cut off. Her eyes widened. Surely Vegeta wasn't doing anything stupid in there.

She hoped to Kami he wasn't, anyway.

Her prayers were answered when momentarily Vegeta exited the men's room and made his way over to her. "What on Earth happened in there, Vegeta?" she gasped.

"Nothing, Woman. I relieved myself. What did you expect to happen?" he asked, giving her a scowl.

"But I... somebody was yelling in there!" she exclaimed.

Fortunately for him she had missed seeing the other patrons hurriedly leaving the restroom. "Some stupid brat causing trouble, that's all."

Bulma groaned. "Vegeta, please tell me you didn't kill anyone," she pleaded.

He scowled again. "Woman, no humans were harmed in there. Do you automatically expect me to blast some brat when I haven't blasted anyone else who has annoyed me all day? Come along now," he told her, steering her aside just as mall security ran over to the bathroom.

"Well..." She didn't see his self-satisfied smirk as the uniformed men entered the restroom, her attention diverted to a dress she saw in a store window. "Oh, that's just gorgeous. Don't you think that's gorgeous, Vegeta? I think I'll try that on..."

"Sure, sure. Whatever," he responded halfheartedly. No humans had been hurt and he'd certainly found relief during the trip to this stupid mall by ridding himself of one of Frieza's top orderlies. Soon the woman would feed him. Perhaps this hadn't been a wasted trip after all.

* * *

"No, sir. I assure you, nothing happened in here. There was a young man who caused a slight disturbance when he annoyed another patron, but he and the other man are gone now. The whole incident took place when I was inside that stall. Nothing serious happened." The man smiled reassuringly.

The security officer nodded. "All right. Thank you for your statement." It didn't appear that anything had gone wrong. The floor was a little wet, but that wasn't uncommon. People were just messy, especially when they didn't have to clean up after themselves. The people who reported two men arguing in the restroom were probably just concerned that the situation might escalate into a fight. He probably would have done the same thing in their shoes.

"Oh, you're so very welcome. I'm glad I could be of assistance." The man watched the security officers leave the restroom before letting a wicked smirk spread over his face. So, his superior officer who had treated him like dirt had thought he'd get a promotion by bringing in Prince Vegeta, did he? "Too bad you're just a fine atomical mist now," he said sarcastically. His superior had held the only communicator when Vegeta had killed him- who knew the prince cleaned up after himself?- but he knew that the sooner he could find a transport off of this mud ball, the sooner he could get in contact with the Colds, then he'd be the one to be rewarded. "Now who's laughing last?"

* * *

"We were only here for three hours and got everything done. See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Bulma asked good naturedly as they left the mall. She was actually quite pleased by their shopping excursion that morning. Aside from the way it had started out it had gone very well, and Vegeta had been surprisingly cooperative. "You have some really nice new clothes and we can get some lunch while we're out." She giggled when Vegeta's stomach growled at the mere mention of food. How he could be hungry again already was beyond her, especially after she'd bought him three pretzels, a footlong hot dog, a large meat supreme pizza, a frozen slushie and a whole batch of frosted cinnamon rolls from the food court.

"Yes, feed me at once, Woman," he demanded.

Bulma shook her head. "I swear you Saiyans are bottomless pits. Is there anything in particular you're in the mood for?" she asked. "There's a lot we can choose from in West Capital City."

"Meat," Vegeta responded without hesitation. "I desire meat." That pizza had really appealed to him. He decided he rather liked pizza.

Bulma's lips curled up into a devilish grin. "I know just the place."

* * *

Vegeta wasn't sure about this establishment. It was worse than the mall. It was loud, dimly lit and had various decorations and video boxes displaying local events, sports games, and other programming on the walls. The servants wore odd-looking hats, boots and very short pants, and the music was unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

Bulma noticed his trepidation and smiled encouragingly. "I know it might seem a little rowdy," she acknowledged, "but the food will make up for it. Trust me." She patted his arm, coaxing him along as their hostess led them to a booth.

"Your waitress will be right over. Enjoy your meal," the hostess told them cheerily as she placed a menu at either side of the booth.

Vegeta eyed her warily as she smiled and left. "What is the problem with the females around here today?" he asked irritably.

"What do you mean?" Bulma motioned that he should sit down and slid into the seat across from him.

"They are staring," he told her. "Some of them attempt to hide it, but others do not."

Bulma giggled. "Well, you do look good enough to eat," she purred, eyeing him above her menu. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a snug fitting Titans t-shirt and sneakers they'd purchased that morning, and she was having trouble keeping her own thoughts chaste. "I was thinking about forgoing lunch and skipping right to dessert, myself." Her toe rubbed against his leg ever so slightly under the table.

Her actions and the lusty look she gave him caught him off guard and he blushed before he could contain his reaction, but recovered quickly. "Well, I am genetically superior," he reminded her haughtily. "I suppose I cannot blame them, since human males obviously cannot measure up."

Bulma giggled again and went back to her menu. "I usually come here with my parents or friends, so you're a new face. Maybe that could be part of it." She paused. He hadn't even touched his menu. "Aren't you going to look at your menu?"

Vegeta would never admit it to the likes of her, but he was unable to read Western Standard. He could easily read and write Eastern Standard and even a few other minor Earth languages that utilized the same set of written characters, but hadn't bothered with learning the way Earthlings wrote what they referred to as 'Western' Standard since it was much, much more complex. Why they didn't write their dialect of the universal Standard language the way most other alien races who spoke forms of it did was beyond him, but he didn't really care and just shrugged the thought off mentally. It didn't matter to him; he didn't intend to stay on this miserable mud ball any longer than necessary, and while he was here he would simply order someone else to do whatever it was he needed for him. "No. You told me that the food here was satisfactory. You may instruct the servants to bring me something acceptable."

Bulma pursed her lips. "Oh, may I Your Highness, really? Look, lighten up, okay? You don't need to be so tense all of the time. Sure I'll order for you. You only had to ask is all." She closed her menu and put it on top of his.

He was about to tell her she should mind her place and that she'd been overstepping her boundaries all morning when a waitress bustled over. "Hello there, Bulma," she exclaimed. "It's been a while."

"Hi Rita," Bulma greeted the waitress. "How've you been?"

"Oh, good, good. My kids keep me busy." She bit the cap of her pen to pull it off. "Who's your friend?" she asked with emphasis on the word 'friend' that suggested otherwise. She gave the dark eyed, scowling man in the booth a once over and decided that given the body, she might be able to deal with the scowl.

_Here we go again._ "This is Vegeta. He's cranky today, so don't mind him."

Vegeta growled but didn't reply. He would make the woman pay for mocking him in front of other humans. For now, he would hold his tongue long enough for the woman to get some food for him. He wanted his meat!

"I'll bet a big strapping guy like you must be hungry, aren't you?" Rita commented. "And I suppose Bulma here dragged you all over creation to every single store in the city, didn't she?"

"Yes, to both questions," Vegeta responded immediately. "She purchased enough garments to clothe a small nation," he grumbled.

Rita laughed, cutting off whatever objection Bulma was about to make. "I don't doubt it. I don't think I've ever seen her wear the same thing twice," she teased.

"I have too!" Bulma contradicted her.

Rita chuckled good-naturedly. "Of course you have. I know I've seen those shoes before." She laughed again. "Okay, all right. What would you like to start off with to drink?"

"I'll have a Diet Coke," Bulma decided. She looked at Vegeta speculatively. "For you? I don't know. A beer, maybe?"

Vegeta shrugged, again having no idea what 'beer' was. "Whatever."

"I guess whatever you have on tap is fine," Bulma decided. "Oh, and a couple glasses of water, too."

"Sure thing. How about an appetizer?" Rita asked.

"Uhm... give us one of those fried onion flowers and some hot buffalo wings."

"Okay. Do you know what you want for lunch or should I put in your appetizers and come back?"

Bulma debated looking at her menu one last time but decided against it when she saw Vegeta's 'My Meat Had Damn Well Better Be Coming Soon Woman' expression. "I'll have the six ounce filet done medium and garlic mashed potatoes," she decided. "Salad with fat free Italian on the side."

"Okay. And what will you have, Vegeta?" Rita asked, looking over to him.

"The woman will order my meal," Vegeta informed her.

Rita took this all in stride. "What will Vegeta have, Woman?"

Bulma gave the grinning waitress a look that suggested that she had best not adopt 'Woman' as a new nickname for her. "Vegeta'll have the 'Bellyache Steak', rare with sautéed mushrooms, steak fries and corn on the cob." She folded her hands on the table and looked to Rita expectantly.

"You are hungry today, if you can finish all of that. You'd be one of the few," Rita informed her curious patron. "I'll bring your drinks out and put in your appetizers." She sauntered off toward the kitchen. "I've got a bellyache!" she yelled, earning herself a chorus of cheers from other patrons and staff alike.

Vegeta frowned. "What the hell did you order for me, Woman?" he demanded.

"The same thing Goku always got when he came here with me, what's affectionately referred to as the 'Bellyache Steak'. It's this monster seventy-two ounce steak," Bulma explained, indicating the approximate size with her hands, "that comes with a potato and a vegetable. If you can eat it all, it's free. Not many people do, or if they do manage to, they end up getting sick. Of course, it doesn't count as finishing if it all comes back up."

Vegeta contemplated this. "I presume Kakarrot always consumed the entire meal?"

"Oh, yeah." Bulma waved off any thought to the contrary. "He usually even polished off a second one without a problem, plus dessert." She sounded sad. "Oh, Goku. I miss you," she whispered.

"About my meal?" Vegeta prompted, snapping her out of her sad thoughts.

_Does he even care that Goku is dead, I wonder?_ "Oh, right. They have a couple of things on the menu here that if you finish them successfully, you don't have to pay. The steak is one of them, and whenever anyone orders one the waiter or waitress will yell 'I've got a bellyache!' to get people all excited, because only a handful of people have ever eaten the whole dinner, and it's fun to watch someone new try." She grinned. "You're not going to embarrass me by not finishing, are you?"

Vegeta scowled. "Hmph! Of course I will finish the steak," he told her. "Kakarrot always ate two, you say?"

Bulma nodded. "He'd get a big sleepy grin on his face and rub his tummy when he was done, and say, "Oh boy, that sure hit the spot. It's almost as good as Chi-Chi's cooking," or something like that," she recalled.

Vegeta contemplated this. "Then I will eat three of these so-called 'Bellyache Steaks'," he decided.

Bulma's eyebrow rose sharply. "Vegeta, you haven't even seen the steak yet. How do you know you'll want to eat three of them?"

"I am the Prince of All Saiyans, Woman," Vegeta reminded her haughtily. "Whatever that clown Kakarrot does I must surpass as his prince and his better."

Bulma frowned. "Vegeta... no offense, but I don't understand what all of the competition is for. Why do you have to be better than Goku all of the time? The man is dead, for Kami's sake-"

"No, you do not understand, Woman. I cannot be outdone by a third-class warrior. On planet Vegeta I would have been a model for my people, someone they were to look to for guidance in all aspects, as an example of what a true, honorable Saiyan warrior really is. Having someone else accomplish bigger and better feats than I myself had done would have been humiliating and I would have lost the respect of my people and the honor due to me as their prince. I might have even been challenged as the rightful heir to the Saiyan throne." He set his jaw. "It has always been so, Woman. But now, Kakarrot has stolen my birthright not just once but twice, and as you stated he is dead, so I am unable to exact any type of restitution from him or regain my honor."

"Vegeta... I had no idea," Bulma whispered. "I just thought you were upset because of Goku's transformation to Super Saiyan. I didn't know it had anything to do with your honor. I'm sorry I misjudged you."

Vegeta glowered at her. How could she be so ignorant? "I was foretold to be the Legendary, the first Super Saiyan in a millennium. So saying, Kakarrot stole my birthright from me when he became a Super Saiyan, and he literally did it again when he killed Frieza, the murderer of my father and my entire race." He tightened his arms across his chest and looked away from her. "So yes, you could rightly say that I am just a tiny bit bitter about Kakarrot, since he didn't even care about his heritage or what his actions meant for me."

"I'm sorry, Vegeta. Truly. I wish that there was something I could do for you," Bulma told him sincerely.

His piercing black eyes bored into hers. "Don't deter me from reaching my goals. That's what you can do. I will become a Super Saiyan, this I swear to you."

Bulma suddenly brightened. "I know! The ship! I could-"

"I've got a Diet, a beer and two glasses of water for you kids," Rita's voice interrupted. "Your appetizers should be right up."

"Thanks, Rita." Bulma took a sip of her Coke and nudged the beer a little closer to her lunch companion. "Try it."

Vegeta sniffed the beer and frowned. "It doesn't smell very good," he told her.

Bulma smiled. "Beer is an acquired taste, I'll admit. Either you like it or you hate it. Give it a try, and if you don't like it, I'll get you something else," she encouraged.

He picked up the mug and took a gulp of the beer, but said nothing.

"Well?"

He shrugged. "Eh, you can drink it," he decided, taking another drink from the mug.

Bulma giggled. "I guess you mean 'you' in the general sense, since you haven't quit drinking it," she noted.

He grunted in affirmation. "I find it acceptable, I suppose." He shifted in his seat, scanning the restaurant impatiently.

"It'll be out soon, Vegeta. No reason to worry about it." Bulma giggled. _Kami, he's so cute..._

"What were you saying about a ship?" Vegeta queried, rubbing his finger over the condensation on his glass.

"Oh, right! Daddy fixed up a spaceship like the one he showed you for Goku to use while he was in space. He could adjust the level of gravity inside the ship, so when he trained in it he got a lot harder of a workout than if he trained under normal circumstances. I could see if Daddy will let you use one of his ships to train with, if you think that would help," Bulma suggested.

Vegeta's interest was evident. "Could this ship withstand ki blasts?"

"Sure, I don't see why not, if I made a few structural and electrical modifications."

"Make it so," Vegeta agreed immediately. "I must become a Super Saiyan without delay."

Bulma smiled, pleased by his positive response. "I'm sure it won't be a problem, but let me talk to Daddy and I'll let you know."

"Good." Vegeta's chin lifted slightly.

"Hmmm..."

"What?" Bulma was inspecting him thoughtfully.

"Your armor is a wreck, and I'm sure you don't want to destroy all of your new clothes," she mused. "If you let me take a look at your armor, maybe I could duplicate it. I'm sure it'll withstand a lot more abuse than regular clothes would."

Vegeta thought about it. _Can she truly do all of this?_ "Fine, then."

"An onion flower and hot buffalo wings?" a girl's perky voice inquired.

Bulma nodded. "Yes, thank you." She sat back in her seat as one of the servers set their appetizers down in front of them.

"Your meal will be out shortly," the girl informed them.

Vegeta leaned forward and looked at the onion flower. He sniffed. His nose wrinkled. "What is this thing?"

Bulma broke a section of the onion off and dipped it into the sauce provided. "It's a deep fried onion. Either you'll like it or hate it. I love it." She ate the piece of onion. "Mmm, good…"

Vegeta decided to try the offensive smelling finger food and gingerly broke off a piece, dipping it in the sauce as Bulma had done and eating it.

His eyebrow rose in surprise. It was good.

"I take it you like the onion," Bulma commented, watching him with amusement as he chowed down on it.

He merely grunted in response and continued eating. His eyes watched her every move as she dipped one of the wings into some ranch and ate the meat off of it, depositing the bone back onto the plate.

"Ooh, those are hot. If they burn too much, you can eat some of the celery." She smiled when he started in on the wings as well, wings in one hand and beer in the other. He sat back when he finished.

"Good?"

"The taste is acceptable," Vegeta agreed, "although this type of cuisine is not very clean."

"Here, use one of these." Bulma tore open a little packet and pulled out a small wet cloth. "They expect you to get messy when you eat this kind of stuff."

He took it and wiped his hands with it, grumbling about unsanitary eating conditions as he did so.

Bulma smiled fondly at him. "Hey, loosen up a little. Everyone here is casual. No one expects you to act like royalty here." She leaned in toward him. "It's okay to lick your fingers here, and even to throw your peanut shells on the floor."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "What kind of establishment is this?"

"Casual family dining," Bulma repeated. "Definitely not a suit and tie environment. Maybe that's why I like it here. It's comfortable and I don't have to worry about acting too professionally."

"Hmph." Vegeta didn't know what to think about that. Despite all of the unsatisfactory conditions he'd been forced to endure in the course of his young life, he'd always endeavored to maintain a dignified appearance and behavior.

"Wow, you two were hungry," Rita commented as she approached. "Here's your salad, Bulma, and another beer for you, Vegeta." She set the items down in front of them.

"Thanks, Rita." Bulma drizzled her dressing onto her salad.

"No problem! Your food should be right up."

* * *

A growing number of patrons were watching as Vegeta dipped the last bite of his steak into the puddle of steak sauce on his plate and very casually ate it.

"Oh my Kami, he finished the entire thing," one of them whispered in stunned admiration.

Vegeta set his knife and fork down, having heard her comment. "Of course, Woman. This meal was hardly a challenge." He waved to Rita. "You, servant woman! I require another one of these bellyaches."

"Vegeta, she's not a servant," Bulma objected, embarrassed. "She's paid to work here."

"Whatever," Vegeta grumbled. "I want my food."

Rita bustled over. "What can I get you- Kami, he finished it, people!" she exclaimed. Cheers came from around the restaurant. "How do you feel? Have you got a bellyache?" She giggled.

Vegeta shrugged. "Moderately satisfied," he decided. "The steak was prepared acceptably. I require another serving."

He smirked when Rita's eyes widened and several shocked gasps were heard from other patrons. Interest was rapidly piqued throughout the restaurant when the news spread that the wild-haired man in the corner booth wearing a Titans t-shirt was ordering his second 'Bellyache Steak' and didn't look any worse for wear after having finished the first one.

"Okay," she said, flipping her order pad open. "You liked the steak rare, right?"

Vegeta grunted in agreement. "The mushrooms were also acceptable."

"Would you like onions or cheese as well?" Rita suggested. "Or will you stick with steak sauce?"

Vegeta decided that perhaps he didn't mind ordering for himself after all. "Yes, I will try the onions and cheese with my mushrooms."

"All right. What kind of potato?"

"Give me what the woman had."

Rita glanced over to Bulma. "Garlic mashed, wasn't it?"

Bulma nodded. "Yep." _This is going to be fun!_

"And your vegetable?"

"You could try a salad, Vegeta," Bulma suggested. "Mine was good."

"That will do. Now off with you, Woman." Rita felt her knees wobble a little when Vegeta gave her a naughty little smirk. "Bring me another beer as well."

* * *

"Double or nothing says he doesn't finish it."

"You're on, pal. Didn't you see the way he wolfed down the second one?"

"I've got fifty zeni that says not only does he finish the third steak, but he orders dessert, too."

"Ugh, that's just sick..."

Vegeta couldn't help but find himself amused by the behavior of the humans watching him. They were fascinated that he'd gotten a third steak and were even betting on whether or not he could truly eat everything that he ordered.

They would learn soon enough to never underestimate a Saiyan when it came to food, especially the Prince of All Saiyans himself.

He earned another astonished gasp when he mopped up the last bit of gravy from his plate with a piece of a roll and popped it in his mouth, then sat back in the booth contentedly.

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "Well?"

Vegeta looked at her pointedly and let out a not very princely belch in response.

She giggled, as did many of the other patrons who were observing. "I take it you're full now?"

Vegeta chewed on a toothpick and shrugged. He was actually a little surprised by his own casual behavior. Why he was acting in this way he didn't know. Perhaps it was the response he was earning from his admirers, or it could be the fact that he was currently most of the way through his second pitcher of beer. Either way, he hadn't felt this at ease in quite a long time, especially so since he hadn't liked the looks of the establishment when they had first walked in. "I am comfortably fed, Woman. You chose well."

"I actually got a compliment!" Bulma preened. "I guess I'll have to bring you here more often. Next time you can try dessert, too."

"Dessert?"

"You know, like chocolate cake, key lime pie, ice cream..."

Vegeta studied her with interest. If she was already intent on bringing him back here again for this 'dessert', then it must be good. "I don't know what any of those things are, Woman." He looked over at Rita, who was collecting his third set of dishes. "Kindly bring me some of this dessert, Woman."

Rita's eyes widened. "A-after three steaks with all the trimmings you want dessert too?"

"Sure, sure. Why not?" He was full but not uncomfortably so. He was a Saiyan. What was one more plate to him? "Unless you'd rather bring me another steak." He laughed openly at her expression.

"What should I bring you?" Rita asked incredulously.

"Just bring one of everything and two forks and spoons," Bulma suggested with a wink.

Soon enough several servers arrived with trays laden down with sugary confections of all kinds and set them before him. "Here you go, sir. Enjoy!" one of the servers told him. "Let one of us know if you need anything else."

When they had left Vegeta inspected one of the desserts as he had the onion. "What is this?"

"Looks like the sweet potato pie."

"This?"

"Black Forest cherry torte."

"This?"

"Rice pudding, a blondie, strawberry shortcake, pecan pie, apple pie, blueberry pie, chocolate cake, a banana split..." Bulma continued to name off each item on the table. "You like sweets, don't you?" She figured if his tastes were anything like Goku's, it would be difficult keeping dessert in the house, especially ice cream or pie.

Vegeta shrugged. "Frieza fed us and that was enough."

Bulma felt a surge of pity rush through her. Even as royalty, he'd had nothing, experienced nothing other than pain and hatred. "Everything here is delicious, trust me. Try some," she coaxed. She reached over with her fork and cut the tip off a piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie. "Mmmm, that's so good."

Vegeta took a bite of the pie à la mode, and his eyebrows rose. He began to chew faster and took another bite.

Bulma giggled and rested her elbow on the table, propping her chin in her hand. She watched with fondness as the formerly surly Saiyan prince happily devoured dessert after dessert, sampling a few of them herself before passing the plate on. It warmed her heart to see him so pleased.

Bulma giggled again when Vegeta finally rested his fork down against the last plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Good?"

"Acceptable, yes," he told her, unwilling to say they were good.

"You sure acted like you were enjoying them," Bulma observed. "You especially seemed to like the ice cream."

_Perhaps if the woman knows I liked it, she will purchase some more of it_, Vegeta reasoned slyly. "I liked the ice cream, yes," he agreed. "The first pie you gave me was also quite palatable."

"You liked the strawberry-rhubarb pie, huh? I thought so." _He's actually opening up to me and enjoying himself! This is great!_ "Since you liked the ice cream so much, the next time we're here I can get you the 'Ice Cream Avalanche'. It's another one of those things you can order that if you finish it, it's free."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose, and a smirk slowly played at his lips.

"You cannot be serious," Bulma exclaimed in disbelief. "Do you know how much you just ate?"

Vegeta frowned. "What a foolish question, Woman. Of course I know how much I ate. I ate it, didn't I?"

"Well, yes but-"

"So bring me one of these avalanche confections," he demanded stubbornly.

"Okay..." She leaned forward. "Are you trying to show off for these people or something?"

"Do not question my motives, Woman!" Vegeta snapped. "Just give me the damned ice cream!"

_He really does like it that much._ "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I wasn't trying to second guess you. I just thought you were joking around, that's all."

"I hardly seem the type to joke around, do I?" Vegeta retorted.

"No... But do try to relax and enjoy yourself," Bulma said softly. She took one of his hands in her own, caressing it with one thumb. "I think you're very handsome when you smile, you know."

"Hmph." He retrieved his hand, feeling uneasy by the affection she was so openly showing him.

_It's okay, Bulma. Just give him time and don't scare him off._ She flagged down Rita, who was passing by.

"Are you kids finally ready for the bill?" she joked.

"Uhm, no. Vegeta wants to try one of the 'Ice Cream Avalanches'," Bulma informed her.

Rita was unable to hide her astonishment. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were related to Goku Son somehow, but even he never ate as much as you did," she said with a shake of her head. "But you seem so different from him as far as personality goes."

"No, there's no relation," Bulma stated before Vegeta could say anything derogatory about her friend. "Same, uhm, nationality though." Goku hadn't really broadcasted the fact that he wasn't human, so she didn't want to say different 'race' or 'species'. She suddenly wondered if she should have said nothing at all.

Rita saved her from her worries. "Oh. That makes sense." She smiled broadly. "I'll make you one up right away. I'd really love to see you eat it all. What kind of toppings would you like on that?"

"Toppings?"

"You know, like the banana split had. Chocolate, caramel, pineapple, nuts, whipped cream..." Bulma supplied.

"All of them," Vegeta determined. "And cherries, too."

Rita chuckled. "I definitely won't forget. I'll give you a bunch of them." She winked at him and headed toward the kitchen. "There's an avalanche on the way!"

People began to cheer just as they had when she'd announced his steak, and Vegeta shook his head. "You humans are so odd," he commented.

* * *

"I still can't believe you ate all of that," Bulma told him with a giggle as she popped her capsule car. "It's a good thing for the owner that I insisted on paying him for your lunch." She climbed inside and buckled herself in as he sat down. "What was your favorite thing?"

"The ice cream," Vegeta responded immediately. He sat down in the passenger seat and let out a rather satisfied sigh.

"That's what I figured. Any particular flavors? I'll make sure Mom buys some when she goes shopping," Bulma offered.

Just as he suspected. Although she claimed that he, despite being a prince, was no better than anyone else, for some reason she was so ready to please him that if he showed even the slightest interest in something, she would give it to him. "What did you call it... cookies and cream," Vegeta decided. "And the triple chocolate-"

"-fudge brownie," Bulma finished along with him. "Oh my Kami, that stuff is sinfully good. I come here just to buy that sometimes," she admitted a little sheepishly.

He gave her an odd look. "You would come here just for that ice cream?"

"Yeah. It's just so good." Bulma merged into traffic. "Thanks for not making a hassle out of the shopping part of this morning. I could tell you didn't really want to go."

"Whatever. Just don't expect this to become a regular occurrence, Woman."

"I won't," she promised. They drove in silence for a little while until her cell phone rang.

"What the hell is that?" Vegeta demanded. As soon as she unclipped it from her belt, he recognized it as one of those incredibly annoying electronic devices that he'd seen people using at the mall.

"It's just my cell phone. Oh, that's Mom." Bulma flipped her phone open. "Hey Mom. What's up? Uh-huh, that sounds good." She lowered the phone a little. "Vegeta, how does turkey dinner sound to you?"

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"That's fine, Mom. Just not too soon, because we just finished with lunch." Bulma listened for a moment, then frowned. "I don't know. I've already dragged Vegeta to enough places today and I think he's had enough- Mom..." She looked over to Vegeta and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, sure. Okay. Bye." She flipped the phone shut and tossed it on the seat next to her with a sigh. "We've been commandeered into stopping by the grocery store. I told Mom you'd probably had enough shopping but she insisted that you'd be fine. Sorry," she told him apologetically.

"Grocery store?"

"Yeah. All kinds of food all in one building." She paused when she saw Vegeta's eyebrow rise. "We can buy whatever you want, if you have something particular in mind."

"I want ice cream," he responded immediately. "Purchase some of the ice cream for me, and some meat."

Bulma couldn't help but smile. "I can do that," she agreed, relieved that he wasn't objecting to being hauled along to still another store. "They do have decent meat at the grocery store, but if you want really good meats, you should go to a reputable butcher. It's up to you."

He thought about it. He was ready to get back to the woman's home- and hopefully get her into her bed- but the thought of as much good, fresh meat as he wanted won out. There would be opportunity to get the woman into bed after her mother prepared his dinner. "I suppose we might stop by this butcher's shop as well," he conceded. "As long as it doesn't take all day," he added grumpily, noticing the woman's pleased look.

"It won't. I promise I'll make it as quick as possible," she assured him.

"Fine, Woman. Proceed." Vegeta sat back in his seat.


	4. Chapter 4

Updated 1/9/09

AN: As Chapter Three did, this chapter has a couple parts in it that I'm particularly fond of. Thanks go again to my hubby for his input in several areas, including his terrific suggestion of how Vegeta makes a selection at the butcher's shop.

The end of this chapter is basically fluff, I know. But it serves as the end of the introductory portion of the story and as a lead-in to the first real arc of the story. A little fluff now and then never hurt anyone, did it? ;)

FYI, _dialogue_ in place of "dialogue" means that the individual is speaking in a foreign language as appropriate to the situation. You will see what I mean when you reach the scene where Vegeta recalls an incident from his past.

Oh, and BTW, I'm not looking for debates from anyone regarding Bulma's comments on the video game being played in this chapter. I just thought that she'd find it to be an amusing comparison, and that Vegeta would not. Poor Veggie...

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Four

"Here we are. This is the best butcher in Satan City." Bulma turned off the car and gave her shopping companion a smile before getting out.

He watched as she pressed a button and the car disappeared, the small metal capsule appearing in its place. She had warned him of her intentions to encapsulate the vehicle or reopen the capsule after he'd been so startled the last time, and caught him paying particular attention this time.

"Pretty neat, huh? I'd eventually like to modify one to float up after encapsulating so I don't have to bend over to retrieve it or risk losing it when it hits the ground."

He grunted in mild assent, unwilling to let on how utterly fascinating he found not only the capsule but the concept itself. He had always had a head for technology and would even sneak off on his own private time to examine- or even disassemble and reassemble- technology that Frieza had confiscated from planets they'd purged when the lizard wasn't around. He had a mind like a sponge and retained every single fascinating detail; from the time he could walk he just _had_ to know how and why things worked. "I want my meat."

Bulma was a little disappointed by his apparent lack of interest but decided not to let it bother her. Maybe he was just tired of shopping and would want to really see one later. "That's why we're here," she told him, opening the door so he could enter the store. A little buzzing sound came from within as they entered.

Momentarily a large man wearing an apron came out from a back room and approached a large glass counter separating the back of the store from the rest of it. He smiled in recognition when he saw Bulma. "Good afternoon, Ms. Briefs. How are you today?"

"Hey Mr. Imano!" Bulma called back. "How's it going?"

"Good, good. Can't complain. What can I get for you and your friend today?" the butcher asked.

"This is Vegeta. He'll be staying with us for a while and asked where to get a nice cut of meat. I told him that this is the place to come."

The butcher beamed at the compliment. "Thank you, Ms. Briefs! I always aim to please. Did you have anything specific in mind, Mr. Vegeta?"

Vegeta was staring at the counter that the man stood behind. The case below it was just filled with meat, and he licked his lips unconsciously. "I don't know yet. Let me see what meat is available," he murmured as he approached the counter. He leaned down to get a closer look.

"Those are beef ribs," Mr. Imano told him. "And right beside them, pork ribs."

"Hmph." Vegeta shrugged. They _did_ look good. "Very well. Give me the beef ribs."

"All right. How much would you like?"

"The beef ribs. Get them ready for me," Vegeta repeated irritably. Why was everyone second guessing him today?

"We'll take them all, Mr. Imano. Thank you," Bulma interjected.

"Oh. I must have misunderstood you, Mr. Vegeta. I'll wrap these up for you." Mr. Imano couldn't claim to know why this odd little man was so cranky, but figured he'd just play it safe and get him whatever he wanted. It wasn't as though the Briefs couldn't afford it.

"Vegeta, Mr. Imano just wanted to know how much you wanted because usually no one buys all of what's there, unless there's not much left," Bulma explained in a low voice, not wanting to embarrass him. "Most everything here is sold based on how much it weighs."

Vegeta found his tetchiness quickly fading as he watched the older man packaging up the ribs. "I see," he said slowly, still perusing all of the luscious meats available for his selection, none of which he had to either kill or prepare.

Another buzz sounded from within the depths of the back of the store as a woman and her young daughter entered. "I'm almost done with your ribs here, Mr. Vegeta. Do you see anything else you like?" Mr. Imano piped up. "I'll be with you in just a moment, Ma'am," he called out to the woman, who nodded and began examining the various cuts of meat. The girl, on the other hand, was fascinated by the man who was buying meat; she'd never seen hair like his before. He looked kind of scary, although the lady looked nice. She kept her distance, but watched him from close by her mother's side.

"You liked the steak you had for lunch. How about a couple different cuts of steak?" Bulma suggested.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, I want some steak," he decided.

Mr. Imano came back up to the counter. "What cut were you looking at?"

"Well, he ate the 'Bellyache Steak' at Buffalo Bob's for lunch," Bulma suggested.

"I consumed _three_ of them," Vegeta corrected her, but he didn't seem to be perturbed. He actually seemed quite proud of himself, and smirked when the woman who had just come in was unable to hide a little gasp of surprise. Evidently most people knew about the establishment he had been served at. "Do you have such a steak here?"

_Great Kami!_ "Three?" Mr. Imano's eyes grew wide, wider still when Bulma nodded in confirmation. "That's a lot of steak. You've got a good hearty appetite, and I think I have just the thing for you," he commented, waving them over to a different counter. "Let's see what I've got over here, shall we? I'm thinking you'll probably want a nice sirloin. I don't have anything as big as the steak you ate, but I do have the same type of steak."

The butcher held up a thick steak for their inspection. It was a nice red color with just a little marbling, and juices dripped from it. The smell of the freshly butchered meat reached his nostrils, and Vegeta unconsciously licked his lips again. "Let me have that steak," he decided.

"All right, I'll wrap it up for you. Did you just want the one?"

"No, let me have the steak. Give it to me," Vegeta demanded.

The dumbfounded butcher hesitated, then handed the meat over the counter to Vegeta. "Sure..."

Vegeta sniffed the meat, then took a liberal bite of it.

"Eeew! Mommy, that man din't cooked his meats before he eated it!" the girl exclaimed. "That's gross."

"Hush Riina, and don't stare," the woman whispered, pulling her daughter a little closer. This one looked a little off-kilter and she wasn't taking any chances. "Maybe he likes it that way."

Vegeta snorted in amusement and took another bite of the bloody meat.

"Vegeta..." Bulma felt her face grow hot at the reactions of the woman and her daughter, but at the same time, she wasn't really surprised by the Saiyan's behavior. "Uhm, yes, that _is_ a nice cut," added weakly. "We'll at least take that one I guess."

To his credit, Mr. Imano was able to hide his reaction and took Vegeta's conduct in stride. "Should I wrap them up for you, sir? Or would you like to select some of these and some of another type?" His eyes met Vegeta's, letting Vegeta know he was entirely in control of this decision. "I have some nice Porterhouse steaks here, some strip steak, or," he continued, leaning in a little as if ready to share a secret, "I have a whole tenderloin that I haven't cut up yet in the back."

"Tenderloin?"

"That's the best cut," Bulma infomed him. "Well, my favorite anyway. That's what I got at lunch today. It's very tender." She smiled encouragingly. "Whatever you want, we'll buy it."

Vegeta contemplated this. "Whatever I want, hmm? You may be sorry you offered, Woman. Yes, this will do. I will take this meat, servant man." He handed the partially consumed steak back to the butcher and eventually ended up selecting all of the sirloin, half of the Porterhouses, some T-bones, several good-sized pork roasts, some plain and some stuffed with various ingredients, a couple different flavors of sausages, a rack of lamb, half a dozen ducks, two large hams, an entire tray of bacon, a prime rib roast and several pounds of beef jerky in addition to his ribs.

Bulma decided to add chicken breast, the tenderloin and ground beef to the order. "So, is that everything or have we cleaned you out enough, Mr. Imano?" she joked. "Good thing I have an empty capsule with me."

"I may have to expand my store if you two keep coming by on a regular basis, Ms. Briefs," he responded with a grin. "Oh, by the way Mr. Vegeta, if there's anything you want in large quantities, just let me know and I'll make sure to get it for you," he offered.

"Good." This rotund human had earned his favor today. That was a first.

The buzzer sounded again as they left the store, leaving the shell-shocked woman and her daughter standing there alone with the butcher. "Uhm... wow. He's a little, well, different," she managed.

"You said it," Mr. Imano agreed.

* * *

"You made some pretty nice selections there, Vegeta," Bulma commented as they pulled up to the grocery store. "Just wait until Mom makes her special rub for the ribs. Oh, _man_ is it good." She turned off the car and got out.

Vegeta got out as well and immediately crossed his arms, scowling. "Don't tell me. This place is crawling with even more females and infants than that stupid mall was, isn't it?" he complained, watching as a woman with a baby entered the store at the same time that another woman with two young children exited it. The woman looked exhausted; the baby seated in the front of the cart was crying incessantly and the little boy whose hand she was holding was being just as noisy.

"Mama, I want it!" the boy shrieked. "Why can't I have it?"

"I said no, that's why," the woman told him in a tired voice.

The boy promptly threw himself down to the ground in the middle of the parking lot and started kicking his feet. "You're mean! I hate you!" he screeched.

"It's too bad you feel that way- Yoshi, come back here. Yoshi, stop!" the woman exclaimed as the boy got up and began to run. With her baby seated in the fully loaded cart, there was little she could do to chase him.

"No! You're a mean old lady!" Yoshi screamed. "I'm running away! I wish Dad was here instead of you. He's not mean to me like you are!"

The boy was heading their way, and Bulma nudged Vegeta. "Hey, grab that little kid," she whispered.

"What do I want with the whiny little brat?" Vegeta demanded. "If it were up to me I'd teach him a thing or two about respect."

"Shh!" Bulma hushed him. "Be glad it's not up to you." She stepped in front of the running boy, stopping him. She squatted down to his level. "Hey, kiddo. What's wrong?" she asked him in a pleasant voice.

"Shut up, you ugly old hag!" Yoshi yelled snidely.

Bulma gasped. "You're right, Vegeta. He _is_ a little brat," she told him, offended.

The woman rushed over as quickly as she could manage with her overloaded cart and the screaming baby. "I'm so sorry, Ma'am," she apologized profusely. "He'll be punished when we get home, I assure you," she said, looking pointedly at her son.

Bulma managed a smile. "It's all right," she responded. "I'm sure they're just tired is all."

Vegeta watched the woman as she secured her children into her vehicle and began to load her groceries into the trunk. "What little brats," he growled. "They both need a good beating."

"Vegeta, they're just little kids! You can't beat little kids," Bulma objected. "The baby was cranky and was probably reacting to her brother, who obviously was upset because he didn't get something he wanted."

"Yes, which makes them brats," Vegeta insisted as they entered the store.

Bulma sighed. "Just be glad they aren't your kids."

"Believe me, I am," Vegeta informed her. "I have no desire to sire any worthless little brats. My father would have beaten the insolence from me had I dared address him in such a fashion."

Bulma's spirit fell. She was rapidly finding herself falling for Vegeta, but she desperately wanted children. Especially considering his negative reaction when she asked him if he actually wanted her to get pregnant, it was clear that if she did stay with him, she'd better forget about them having any children together. "I- I'm sure if you had children you wouldn't allow them to be brats," she commented quietly. "But don't worry, this won't be all that bad. You'll see." She commandeered a cart and placed her purse in the baby seat. "Let me know if you see anything you want, okay?"

She looked over at him when he didn't respond to find him surveying their surroundings with astonishment. She'd told him that the grocery store had all kinds of food, but there was more food there than he'd imagined- row upon rows, shelf upon shelves, all just full of food.

Bulma didn't know whether to smile at his child-like awe, or cry in pity for the obviously neglected man. Compared to Goku, who certainly had enough to eat, Vegeta suddenly seemed scrawny and undernourished. _I'll put an end to that,_ she decided. _Whatever he wants, I'll get for him._ "Vegeta?" she asked softly. "Ready to start shopping?"

"Yes... Show me where the best consumables are," he responded with less authority in his voice than usual.

"I'll lead the way," she assured him.

They made a full circuit of the store, jamming Bulma's unfortunate cart as full as it could get. "Okay, one last stop," Bulma informed him. "Frozen foods." Her feet slipped on the floor as she attempted to push the heavily laden cart around the end of the aisle and down the next one with a small grunt.

Vegeta snorted. "Weak woman," he teased.

Could that almost be warmth in his voice that she detected? "Hmph," she pouted with a scowl. "If you're so big and strong, why don't _you_ push the cart, tough guy?"

"Because I don't want to," he answered immediately. "It's much more amusing to watch your feeble attempts."

She pursed her lips and stared at him. Amusement was plainly evident in his eyes. "But, Vegeta," she purred, changing tactics, "wouldn't it make more sense for me to save my strength for, oh, more productive uses?"

She was looking up at him through her lashes, and a hint of pink flushed across her cheeks as her lips quirked up in a flirtatious little smile. He could feel the heat rise up in his body- and realized that that was her intention. "Blasted woman," he growled, shoving her hands from the bar of the cart.

She ran her fingertips along his bicep. "Thank you."

"Hmph," was the only response she got.

"Stop here for a second," she requested, opening up a glass door. Icy cold air rushed out from behind it, and she grabbed various items from inside and crammed them into the cart. "Vegetables," she commented at his inquisitive look. "I hope you like green beans. My parents both love them."

Vegeta watched as her perky little nose wrinkled up in distaste, followed by the emergence of her tongue and a sound of disgust. He leered at her. "I'm sure you can find a more productive use for that tongue of yours, can't you?"

Another blush flitted across her cheeks. "Just push the cart, okay?"

* * *

"Mom, we're back!" Bulma announced, tossing her keys into what had affectionately been dubbed the 'junk bowl', a small bowl on the counter which was filled with various miscellaneous items.

"Did you stop by the grocery store for me, dear?" Mrs. Briefs inquired as she breezed into the kitchen.

"Yep. Here you go." Bulma placed the capsule she'd put the groceries in on the counter.

"Thank you, dear. Oh! Vegeta, you look so handsome in that shirt," Mrs. Briefs cooed, admiring the way it hugged his physique. She renewed her hope that Bulma would keep this one. He seemed like such a nice young man, despite being a little troubled. Perhaps he'd had a rough childhood, the poor dear! "Did you get a matching hat, too?"

"A hat?" Vegeta repeated. Was this woman serious? "What in the hell am I going to do with a hat?"

Bulma was giving her mother an equally blank look. "Mom, how is Vegeta supposed to wear a hat? You _have_ noticed his hair, haven't you?"

"Oh my, yes. And such nice hair, too," the blonde woman said with a sigh. She hummed to herself as she strolled over to the oven and opened it. "Mmmm, doesn't that smell good?"

"Ugh, just the thought of eating anything right now makes me sick," Bulma complained. "We had a big lunch and I'm stuffed."

"Where did you go, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked as she basted an enormous turkey.

"I took Vegeta to Buffalo Bob's," Bulma responded with a grin.

Mrs. Briefs pushed the turkey back into the oven and began to giggle. "Did you get the big steak, Vegeta?"

"Yes. I consumed _three_ of them," Vegeta informed her. "Also a large onion, wings and various confections."

The blonde woman's mouth rounded into an 'O' of surprise. "My goodness, dear! You sure were hungry! Well, it's a good thing the turkey is big, especially with all of the guests we have tonight."

"Mom, Nameks don't have to eat like we do-"

"Nonsense, dear! I'm sure they'll like the turkey just fine." She turned back to her cooking, humming to herself as she tasted something she was cooking on the stove. "Oh, that's good," she murmured, replacing the lid. "Bulma dear, why don't you help me put away the groceries?"

"Sure, Mom." Bulma retrieved the grocery capsule and opened it. "Vegeta, I'd suggest you enjoy the afternoon outdoors, but it looks like we made it home just in time. It's raining." She sighed. "I suppose you could watch a little television in the den while I do this, then maybe we could put away our clothes." She smiled suggestively.

Vegeta felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I just might do that, Woman." Without further ado, he turned on his heel and headed for the den.

"Oooh, he's a cute one, dear!" Mrs. Briefs cooed, giggling when her daughter's cheeks flushed pink.

"Mom, would you stop already? For Kami's sake, you've been making lewd little comments all day today!" Bulma objected as she opened the freezer and crammed several boxes of ice cream inside.

Mrs. Briefs turned from the stove and eyed her daughter. "All right. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't find him attractive," she challenged as she crossed her arms, a wooden spoon still in one hand. "Just that devilish little grin of his-"

Bulma sighed raggedly. "All right Mom, you win," she interrupted. "I'm very attracted to him, okay?" The blush on her cheeks got deeper.

Her mother giggled in delight. Of course she'd been right all along. She hadn't been wrong about any of Bulma's other so-called 'friends'. "Only attracted? What a shame." She set down the spoon and came over to help sort through the groceries. "So... is my assumption that you didn't need me to tell you to take good care of our guest also correct?"

"Mooom!" Bulma couldn't imagine her face becoming any redder. "That's none of your business!"

"Dear, your father and I aren't clueless," Mrs. Briefs informed her. "Even if I hadn't heard you two earlier this morning, the way you act around him is a dead giveaway."

"You heard us?" Bulma groaned and sat down on the floor with her back against the cupboards. "Is there a hole nearby that I can crawl into and die?"

"Bulma!" Mrs. Briefs chastised gently. "I was going to tell you good for you. He seems like such a nice young man who just needs a little loving. Am I right?" She offered her hand to her daughter.

Bulma allowed her mother to help her up. "Yes, something like that."

Mrs. Briefs smiled and kissed Bulma on the forehead. "That's nice, sweetheart. Here, come try this cranberry sauce I'm making."

* * *

Vegeta approached the den and frowned when he heard noises coming from inside. He pushed the door the rest of the way open to find it infested with little green men.

Two of them were lying on their bellies in front of the enormous television set, little handheld devices with an array of buttons on them in their hands. "Oh! No fair!"

"Sore loser!"

"Boys, that isn't polite, especially in someone else's home. Be nice," the elder Namek advised.

What was his name... ah yes. Moori. "Yes, be nice and leave," Vegeta barked, grinning when the whole lot of them jumped in surprise.

"Uhm... would you like to play?" One of the Nameks held the video game controller in his hand up toward the prince.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "Play?"

"Yes, video games," the Namek told him hesitantly. "Dr. Briefs had us come indoors when he said it looked like it was going to rain and showed us how to use it."

His opponent nodded. "It's fun." The others murmured in agreement.

Vegeta sneered at the boy. "I don't play games, and I certainly don't need that device to have fun beating Nameks." His smirk grew wider.

"Come now, boys. Let's allow Vegeta to use the den. We have been here long enough," Moori advised, not wanting an altercation with the Saiyan.

"How about that? Wise words, old man." Vegeta watched the Nameks hurriedly file out of the den, leaving him alone and with the sudden realization that he didn't know how to use any of the contraptions set before him. He scowled, and pushed a button on the box the device the Namek had offered to him was connected to. The screen flashed, and the title screen appeared. "How do I get rid of this annoying music?"

* * *

"How much longer until dinner is ready, Mom?"

"Oh, a couple more hours. This is a really big turkey," Mrs. Briefs responded, sliding a pie into the second of her dual ovens. "My pies should be done in a little more than an hour. Let's see now, what else..."

"Well, it's just that for so many people in the house it's too quiet, don't you think?" Bulma asked hesitantly.

"Oh, I don't know dear. Maybe the Nameks got bored and took a nap, the poor dears," Mrs. Briefs suggested.

Bulma found that highly unlikely but kept her thoughts to herself. "Maybe. I'll go check up on everyone." She grabbed a Coke and a beer from the fridge and headed to the den, from which she could hear energetic music and various computerized noises. _Oh, someone's playing video games._

A roar of "Damn it! Jump, you stupid little- Arrgh!" followed by a string of rather colorful expletives interrupted her thoughts. A smile spread over her face. "Vegeta? Playing video games?" _This_ she had to see. She pushed open the door a little further and peeked inside; sure enough, her Saiyan guest was parked cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, his thumbs moving rapidly as he pressed the buttons. "Hey Vegeta!"

He growled in response and gripped the controller harder, embarrassed at being caught playing a child's game but unwilling to quit and let it beat him.

Especially in front of the woman.

"Don't you break that. I've had that system since I was a kid." She opened his beer and set it down beside his feet, then plopped down next to him with her own drink. "I still love the game though, and like to play it now and then. I guess I'm just sentimental that way."

He growled again. "This stupid game _cheats_," he accused darkly, ignoring her sentiments.

Bulma grinned. "Well, of course it does," she agreed. "You didn't really think they'd make it easy to beat, did you?" She took a sip of her Coke and leaned back. "I can tell you a shortcut to finish this zone if you want," she suggested, running a hand up and down his back.

"I can play by myself just fine, Woman," Vegeta insisted. "I don't need your- damn it!" His growl drowned out the little tinkling sounds that accompanied the scattering of rings all over the screen when the unfortunate blue hedgehog landed on top of a spike. He gritted his teeth in irritation. "Now look what you made me do!"

"Oh, no. You can't put this one on me, mister. Not with your superior reflexes, remember? Just grab a ring before you get hit again."

"I'm not going to get hit again."

"You're not doing badly at all for your first time playing this. It _is_ your first time, right?"

"Yes, now shut that enormous mouth of yours and let me play."

Bulma took this all in stride. "Wait, jump on that thing there."

"This thing? Ah! What did it do to me?"

"It made you invulnerable for a short time, unless you fall into a pit or drown or something like that. Run into that bad guy. See?"

"Invulnerable, hmm?" Vegeta's eyebrow raised and he grinned as he gleefully mowed down more bad guys, mentally giving each one the name of one of Frieza's cronies as he did so.

_He's actually enjoying this, so I think I'd best refrain from mentioning Super Sonic and Tails. However..._ Bulma giggled. "I dare say, Sonic sorta looks like you. He's got the spiky hair, perpetual little scowl, athletic..."

"This game is an insult to Saiyans. I'm not playing any more," Vegeta proclaimed, tossing the controller in her lap and crossing his arms.

"You don't want to play any more?"

"No."

"Now look what he's doing. Tapping his foot as if to say, 'do something Woman, I haven't got all day'!" Bulma giggled again.

"Hmph."

"Come on, Vegeta. Hedgehogs and Saiyans obviously have nothing to do with each other. It's just a game, and all for fun." Bulma curled up on the floor with her head on the prince's lap and looked up at him with big soft doe eyes.

Vegeta looked away, managing to hide his surprise at how much her large blue eyes had affected him and even more unwilling to admit that they actually had. "Hmph. Give me one good reason why I should continue to put up with you, Woman," he demanded. "You have taken far too many liberties all day, and I for one am-"

She sat up and kissed him to silence him. "Because you haven't seen what I bought for me for you today yet, that's why," she purred, running a finger down his chin. "It's red," she told him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, "and silky," she continued, giving him another kiss, "and I guarantee that you're going to love it."

He was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, Woman. You're just crazy." Part of him was angry at himself for allowing this woman to so easily manipulate him, and the rest of him was again screaming that he'd be insane to reject her attentions. He barely managed to keep himself from ravishing her right then and there.

She giggled. "Guilty as charged. Say, I have more than one game system here. Want to play something else?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Playing games, what a foolish waste of time. I thought we were going to do whatever_ I_ want to do today." A slow smirk spread over his face.

Bulma grinned. "And what were you doing when I walked in here, oh mighty Prince? Don't worry, we will, if you're a good boy now," she promised with a wink. "You were good at that game. Now I want to play this one. It's for two players simultaneously, and no one ever gives me a challenge." She gave him a sideways glance and grabbed a different game cartridge.

Vegeta snorted. This woman needed to be brought down a peg or two. "Bring it on, Woman. But you'll only get punished for your insolence."

Bulma grinned. "Is that a challenge?"

He leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "No. That's a promise."

* * *

"Bunny, it smells absolutely wonderful in here," Dr. Briefs commented as he entered the kitchen. "You've really outdone yourself tonight."

"Thank you dear," she responded, giving him a kiss. "Have you seen Bulma? Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "Sorry honey Bunny. I can't say that I have."

Mrs. Briefs giggled, just as he had anticipated she would. Such a dear man she had married! "Hmm. I know she got drinks for herself and that nice young man of hers. Maybe they're watching television," she mused.

"Want me to check?" he offered.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, thanks," Mrs. Briefs told him as she poured gravy into a gravy boat.

"No problem." Dr. Briefs made his way toward the den.

"No! Don't you dare!" he heard Bulma shriek. "I swear to Kami I'll hurt you."

Vegeta laughed heartily. "Go ahead and try, Woman."

Dr. Briefs nudged open the den door a crack in time to see Vegeta complete a four-line Tetris, which in turn dumped a boatload of random pieces onto Bulma's side of the game and overflowed her lines off of the top of the screen. Vegeta continued to howl with laughter as she flung down her controller and screeched like a spoiled child.

"You ass!" she yelled.

"Loser!" he countered. "How many times in a row did I just beat you? Why can't you simply admit defeat?" he asked smugly.

"I don't like you any more," Bulma pouted.

"Oh, you say that now," Vegeta told her slyly, running a finger down her bare arm and chuckling throatily when she shivered. "I see somebody's got goose bumps."

Wordlessly, Bulma grabbed a pillow off of the couch and swung at him with it.

Vegeta laughed as he snatched it from her effortlessly. "Is this how you swore you'd hurt me? Oh, somebody help me!" he teased, further incensing the blue-haired woman's temper.

Dr. Briefs slowly shut the door again when the Saiyan scooped up his daughter and kissed her to quiet her, knowing from his brief association with the young man that he was an extremely proud and private individual. His behavior stunned the doctor; Vegeta had gone from sullen and cranky to playful and affectionate in a day's time, and hadn't made any indication that he'd detected his presence at the door. "Bulma?" he called, knocking on the door.

Vegeta pushed her off his lap and got up to sit on the couch, scowling. Stupid humans! Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

Bulma shot Vegeta a hurt look. "Come in, Daddy."

The door opened again and the doctor stepped inside. "Hello there, Vegeta. Bulma, your mother asked me to tell you two that dinner is ready."

Vegeta said nothing but Bulma turned off the game and got up. "Thanks Daddy." She paused. "Mom isn't harassing the Nameks about eating again, is she? Honestly, they don't eat."

A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. "You know how your mother is. She just loves feeding people," he reminded her. "I'll tell her I conducted a test on one of them and that was my assessment as well." The older man's eyes twinkled with amusement.

Bulma giggled. "Daddy, you're hilarious."

Dr. Briefs smiled. "Well, we don't want to make our guests uncomfortable, do we?" Another doorway opened down the hall and he turned to see who it was. "Hello, Dende, is it?"

"Yes, sir," the little boy responded.

"I hear you've been having a few problems with my wife and food?"

Dende shuffled hesitantly. "Uhm, yes... You see, Nameks don't need to eat. Water is fine for us. But we don't want to offend Mrs. Briefs."

"Don't worry, m'boy. I'll take care of it," Dr. Briefs assured him.

Relief rushed over Dende's face. "Thank you, Dr. Briefs."

"Not a problem. We're going to have some dinner now, if any of you need one of us."

Dende nodded and trotted off. "We'll be in the library," he called back.

Dr. Briefs turned back to his daughter. "Give me just a minute, then come to dinner," he told her with a wink.

Vegeta finally spoke up after the doctor left. "Hmph. Crafty old man." A hint of a smile pulled at his lips.

"I'd more likely to acknowledge that he's a _smart_ man, but yes, he does have a few tricks up his sleeve." Bulma's tone was decidedly icy.

Vegeta frowned. "What the hell is the matter with you, Woman?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing. I just love the fact that you're more than happy to hop into bed with me whenever you feel like it, but if anyone sees us standing too close, I might as well be a leper," Bulma snapped, hurt.

_She's hurt. How interesting._ Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Get over it, Woman. I am not in the habit of openly displaying personal matters for all to see. My dealings with you or any other female are none of anyone else's business."

"Your dealings with me or any other female. What am I, the flavor of the week? Because if that's how it's going to be, you can just-"

Vegeta put a hand over her mouth. "Be quiet, Woman. You assume far too much. I simply am not comfortable making a show out of what is private between a male and female. How many of those other females who showed me attention today did I respond to, hmm?"

"I..." Bulma found herself speechless by his question. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I just feel like you don't want anyone to know. I mean, would it really be that horrible if people knew we were... I don't know. What are we doing, Vegeta? Who do you consider me to be?"

"An annoying woman," Vegeta responded. "Come along. I'm hungry."

Bulma bit at her lip. She felt like crying as she watched him leave the room. _Just an annoying woman. That's all I am to him._

Vegeta stopped inside the doorway and turned back to her. He scowled at her. "Leave off with the sniffling, Woman," he told her quietly. "I told you, you are making far too much out of this."

"But, I just..."

"Woman, I learned early in life that if I claimed something as my own or even showed an interest in it, it would either be taken from me or used against me. It has always been so." His mind drifted back to a time in his youth, a time he thought he'd managed to put out of his mind for good.

_"So, why are we here?" Vegeta crossed his arms and frowned. He didn't want to be at this loud, foul-smelling establishment full of drunken males and solicitous females._

_"It's your sixteenth birthday, little prince," Ugon, one of Frieza's higher-up soldiers, reminded him. "Don't you want to be a big prince?" He pointed to a woman who was gyrating her hips against a stripper's pole and wriggled his eyebrows. Several of his friends snickered._

_Vegeta hated Ugon. Ugon had gleefully made the young prince's life miserable in numerous ways since Frieza had started sending them on the same team for missions and purgings together, but it did no good to complain. Evidently Frieza felt that Vegeta could learn a thing or two from the older man, who was vying to become one of his lieutenants. Since Ugon was in the lizard's favor, he probably would get the promotion shortly, which would be a really bad thing for Vegeta, considering they were currently at the same rank. "You of all people should know better than to try to use that line against me, or have you forgotten? I'm not as little as you say, you big suck-up," he retorted with a sneer, the double whammy of his declaration effectively turning the tables while earning himself snickers from several of the men in the group and infuriating Ugon. This was because not only was it common knowledge that Ugon kissed up to Frieza, but Vegeta truly wasn't as 'little' as Ugon had insinuated. True, Vegeta was quite short in stature for his age and race, but during his young life that had not hindered him from already experiencing his share as far as keeping 'company' with women was concerned. One woman at an establishment they'd visited had actually made a snide comment which degraded Ugon's physical attributes and prowess, and put Vegeta's in a very positive light, despite him being a teenage boy and Ugon well into adulthood. Most of the men with them knew this; no doubt the rest of them would by the end of the day._

_"You will regret disrespecting me, you worthless monkey," Ugon snarled, his face turning red with anger._

_Vegeta merely shrugged. "Whatever." His smirk widened and he decided to pour some salt in Ugon's wound as he caught sight of one of the serving women in the tavern. He waved to the woman, who came over._

_She reached the table and her eyes widened as she realized who he was. Not only was he with Frieza's men, but his looks gave him away, as the men of the House of Vegeta had very distinct breeding; because of his hair and the tail wrapped around his waist, there was no mistaking who he was. His reputation preceded him, and only the foolhardy didn't fear him. He could easily crush her like a bug if he chose to do so. _P-prince Vegeta!_ she gasped. She nodded deeply, hoping to gain his favor. _How may I serve you?__

_Vegeta knew that Ugon did not speak the common language of the populace of this planet, but despite Vegeta never having been here before it was evident that the young woman had not only recognized him, but respectfully acknowledged his rank as a powerful individual in society as indicated by her bow. As useless as the men with him might find his status of Prince of Saiyans to be, Vegeta knew that Ugon would not have been either recognized or responded to in such a respectful fashion. Even this much of the situation would have been enough salt for him, but Vegeta decided to really rub it in. _My friends and I would like to order drinks. I do not wish to offend my superior officer, so I will allow him to do so.__

_She nodded and turned her attention to the man Vegeta had indicated. _What may I bring you, Sir?__

_Ugon stared at her blankly. "What... Vegeta, what does she want?" he forced himself to ask. It seemed less foolish than not responding at all._

_"I thought we came here for women and alcohol. She would like our drink order. I didn't wish to be presumptuous enough to order for you... Sir," Vegeta finished with deliberate emphasis on the last word._

_Ugon fumed inwardly. So the little bastard had decided to embarrass him in front of the rest of the men, had he? He would be showing weakness in Vegeta's eyes by admitting that he didn't understand the language and having to ask Vegeta to speak to the woman in his behalf after just having demanded the younger man's respect. The Saiyan had dropped his usual haughty smirk, but the amusement in his eyes was evident. "Just order us drinks, you idiot. I'm not in the mood to play games with your little whore there." His eyes traveled the length of her body. "At least not yet. She's not that hard to look at." The young woman noticably flinched, despite trying to hide it._

What a pig!_ Vegeta actually found himself feeling sorry for the girl, but realized a way to use Ugon's indiscretion to his advantage. _Miss, please bring us a bottle of your P'Anto whiskey,_ Vegeta requested. _I am told that it is quite good. _ His lips curled up in a flirty little smile. _

_A slight blush spread across the young woman's cheeks. _Right away, Prince Vegeta,_ she responded. Her large blue eyes shone at him as she rushed off to get the beverage._

_Vegeta sat back in his chair, not bothering to hide the smug look of satisfaction on his face. "I think that went well."_

_One of the other men spoke up before Ugon, who was visibly furious, could make a scene. "What did you order us, Vegeta?"_

_"A bottle of their private blend whiskey," he responded. "I have been told that it is exceptionally good."_

_"What does an adolescent brat like you know?" Ugon snarled._

_"Well, I know that one of us did our homework before we got here, and it evidently wasn't you," Vegeta responded without missing a beat. "Although I have never set foot on this planet before, I used the ship's database to brush up on my fluency of the language and culture of the people here. It certainly gave me an advantage just now, didn't it?" His smirk returned. "You could have used your scouter for a direct knowledge transfer course before we got here, but if I'm not mistaken you were too busy fraternizing with the ship's whores. Isn't that something that, oh, let's say a hormonal sixteen-year-old adolescent brat would be doing, rather than someone practically forty years old who knew he had been assigned to head up this rather important assignment?"_

_A few nervous coughs were all he got from his teammates. Ugon, on the other hand, was more furious than Vegeta had ever seen him. A sick sense of pride washed over him; he was the one to infuriate rocksteady Ugon. "Why you- how dare you speak to me in such a fashion?" he all but screamed at the boy who sat gloating at him from across the table._

_"Yes, that is how I knew about the whiskey," Vegeta continued, feigning thoughtfulness as he completely ignored the older man's tirade. "I'm looking quite forward to sampling it."_

_Ugon leapt to his feet, sending his chair flying back onto the floor. "I am going to make you suffer, monkey!" he howled._

_The soldiers on either side of him got to their feet as well in an effort to restrain him. "Sir, please do not do this," one of them muttered. "Have a drink for now and wait until a more appropriate opportunity to discipline him."_

_"Everyone is watching, Sir," the other soldier reminded him. "Lord Frieza would not be pleased if he heard of an altercation between you two while we are here handling a matter in his name."_

_Ugon visibly calmed somewhat when one of the soldiers retrieved his chair and offered him a seat. "Just you wait, you miserable little bastard," he hissed. "I will see you punished with the greatest of severity."_

_"Oh, good. Here she comes," Vegeta said brightly. His lips twitched in an effort to hold in his laughter._

_The young woman hesitantly approached their table and set their order down. _Your P'Anto whiskey, Prince Vegeta,_ she said softly, opening the bottle and pouring a shot for each of them. _May I bring you anything else?__

__Thank you, no. That will be all for now._ Vegeta handed her a coin._

__Thank you. Please let me know if you require anything at all._ She gave him another nod of respect before scurrying off from the table._

_"She seemed to like you," one of the men commented with amusement._

_"Of course she did," Vegeta responded smugly. "What's not to like of one who treated you with dignity?" He sampled his drink and one dark eyebrow rose. "This is good."_

_"Why would you do that? She's just a servant here," one of Ugon's men asked snidely._

_"Because I am well aware that many people would love to see retribution against me," Vegeta retorted. "If I have the favor of one such as her who would not expect it, I am less likely to find myself poisoned by one of the various odorless and tasteless concoctions I read about that are found on this planet." He took another sip of his shot. "In fact, I did you a favor," he informed Ugon pointedly._

_Ugon snorted. "And what deludes you to believe such a thing?"_

_"Did you not notice the unopened bottle I ordered?" Vegeta responded seriously. "Don't delude yourself into believing that one of the lovely ladies here who has been harassed by drunken males all day wouldn't poison the next one given a chance. You just might have been the next one." He leaned forward and a grin spread over his face. "Sir."_

_Ugon was visibly angry but said nothing. Instead, he finished his drink in one gulp and glared at the young prince._

_When Vegeta sat back up, the soldier sitting beside him leaned over. "I think you might best back off, Vegeta," he advised quietly. "I would take his threats seriously, if I were you."_

_Vegeta dismissed this. "Pfft! What will he do, go crying to Frieza that the little prince was picking on him? He knows that I would simply inform Frieza that he was ill prepared to complete this assignment and if I had not been prepared it would have been a dismal failure."_

_The soldier still looked uncomfortable. "Even so, I advise you to tread carefully tonight." He leaned back and picked up his whiskey._

* * *

Vegeta watched the girl pick up her things from behind the bar and head toward the door. He followed her out and grabbed her arm, placing a finger atop her lips before she could cry out. _Shh, Woman._

_The girl actually looked relieved. _Oh! Prince Vegeta, you frightened me,_ she exclaimed, her hand on her chest as she caught her breath._

_Vegeta's lips curled up in a smile and he guided her around to the other side of the building, away from prying eyes, and pushed her back against the wall. _Aww, little one. There's no need to be afraid of me,_ he purred close to her ear. _You'll find that I can actually be quite nice._ His hand rested on her hip._

_She blushed and bit at her lower lip, but her eyes were anything but shy. He couldn't help but wonder if she had been thinking about doing this to him as much as he had about her? _Is that so?_ She took a chance and rested her hands on his chest._

_He growled in approval. _That's so,_ he agreed. His hand slid up to caress her side, and his smirk widened. The young woman was rapidly becoming aroused by his touch; not only had her pulse quickened, but he could smell her excitement. _If you're a nice girl, I just might show you._ His other hand curled around her back to pull her against him._

_She let out a little giggle and sighed when his lips brushed against the side of her neck. _Why, Prince Vegeta! Isn't this naughty rather than nice?_ She turned her head to whisper in his ear. _If so, I won't mind if you decide to not be nice.__

_He had nearly lost control when she nibbled on his earlobe. For a moment he thought that she had no idea what her actions were doing to his Saiyan mind, but it made no difference to him as his armor and shirt swiftly ended up in the grass, along with her shirt. Their hands roamed freely and he growled with pleasure as her soft lips traced warm pathways along the contours of his chest._

_Never had he experienced this, never had a woman willingly come to him and touched him, aroused him in this way. She gasped and let out a moan when he ground his pelvis against hers. _Vegeta... Why don't we go-__

__Shh!_ He froze, putting his finger back over her lips when he heard voices approaching the doorway from inside the tavern. Sure enough, the door opened._

_"Are you sure he didn't just visit the privy? After all that booze he drank, I'm surprised he hasn't fallen flat on his face, let alone start puking his guts out."_

_Vegeta recognized the voice as one of Ugon's soldiers, as was the voice that responded. If they found him in such a compromising situation... He held a finger in front of his lips, indicating that the girl should keep quiet._

_"I wouldn't be surprised," the second soldier responded. "But then again, that hot girl he's been eyeing all evening is gone, too."_

_There was a snicker. "Think maybe he's getting laid?"_

_"Like I said, I wouldn't be surprised," the second voice repeated. "A kid his age is thinking with his pants half of the time anyway-"_

_Vegeta let out a sigh of relief when the door shut again. _That was close.__

__Yes... Yes, it was,_ the young woman responded in a small voice, her eyes downcast in disappointment that she wasn't hiding very well._

_Vegeta leaned over to pick up their clothes and handed her her shirt. _I think you were about to suggest we take this elsewhere?_ he said suggestively. He ran a finger down her jawline, chuckling when she shivered and nodded quickly in response. _All right, then. Give me an hour to get rid of these losers and then meet me back out here,_ he instructed._

_She blushed again, but it wasn't completely out of bashfulness. _I'll be here,_ she told him. After dressing herself she paused, then quickly placed a kiss on his lips and gave him a coy little smile before scampering off._

* * *

An hour came and went, and there was no sign of the servant girl. Vegeta sighed in exasperation. He was all wound up from their activity and had been looking forward to release.

_After another half hour, he decided to go back to his room. Perhaps she had become afraid. Her eyes had widened rather dramatically when she'd felt him grind against her. But, it hadn't been a fearful look in her eyes. It had been a lustful one. He would question her in the morning. Perhaps even arrange to bring her along._

_

* * *

_

Vegeta scanned the tavern servants as he ate his morning meal but didn't see his blue-eyed temptress. An unsettling thought niggled at the back of his mind. Even if she had been too afraid to return the night before, there was no way the tavern owner would let her hide so as not to face him this morning. He looked up as someone joined him at his table.

Great. As if my meal isn't unappetizing enough._ "Ugon."_

_"Why, Vegeta, whatever is the matter? You look a little troubled. Let me guess, your little friend didn't show up last night and you wonder why, is that it?" Ugon asked in a patronizing voice. A slow smirk spread over his face._

_Sudden realization hit Vegeta- Ugon had probably killed the young woman just to spite him, or at the very least violated her. "I assume you have no reason to wonder," he responded in an emotionless tone._

_Ugon laughed. "No, and actually she was quite entertaining while she lasted. It was too bad you couldn't be there. Too bad for her, anyway."_

_Visions of all of the things Ugon had made him do to some of their victims while purging planets over the years flashed through Vegeta's mind. He had no doubt that Ugon's treatment of the girl had been nothing short of horrific, and if she wasn't already dead, she wished she was. "You are a very sick, twisted man, Ugon," he responded in a low voice._

_"Thank you." Ugon preened visibly. "Consider this a glimpse of what you will receive once we return to the ship."_

_"Whatever. You don't scare me, Ugon." Vegeta's outward demeanor reflected that he couldn't have cared less about the serving girl, but in truth what happened to her bothered him greatly. Nighttime activities aside, she had been sincerely kind and gracious to him, something he was not used to. Remembrance of the feeling of her hands and mouth on his body burned on his skin as if she was still touching him._

_She would never touch him again._

_She had been beautiful. Her blue eyes had shone with pleasure at pleasing him._

_They would never shine again._

_Her voice had been soft and pleasant to listen to._

_She would never laugh again._

_He hadn't even known her name._

_Despite all of the horrors he'd emotionlessly inflicted upon untold numbers of living beings, Vegeta couldn't help but feel badly about this woman. She wasn't the first female Ugon had used against him, and if he wasn't careful she wouldn't be the last. It would be easier to forget about females; no Saiyan females were left anyway, so it wasn't as though he needed to be concerned with finding a mate and siring an heir. It would be easier to simply mindlessly indulge along with the rest of the soldiers during purgings._

_Damn it. Wasn't that what the older soldiers had made him do even as a young boy? Now he joined them without a thought and with even less remorse._

_He couldn't afford to feel remorse. Just forget about the female, and those shining blue eyes..._

_"You should be afraid, Vegeta. You will regret crossing me." Ugon's smile was not pleasant._

_

* * *

_

Vegeta dropped to one knee before his lord and master. "You summoned me, Lord Frieza?" He felt his stomach churn as the words left his mouth. Oh, how he hated this disgusting, perverted monster, and even more his forced servitude to him!

_"Yes, I wish to discuss the assignment you just returned from." Frieza and beckoned him to approach._

_"The assignment was carried out successfully, m'Lord," Vegeta informed him, rising and nearing the throne where the overlord sat. "All that you commanded has been done."_

_"So I have been told." Frieza took a sip of his wine. "I have also been told that you overstepped your boundaries as far as following orders is concerned, and that you shirked your duties to consort with tavern whores." He folded his hands and smiled at the prince. Like Ugon's, his was not a pleasant smile._

_It was malicious._

_Vegeta felt his heart skip a beat; he knew that look and what it meant for him. _Damn you, Ugon!_ "No, Lord. That is not true-"_

_"I trust Ugon's word implicitly. Are you calling him a liar?" Frieza interrupted._

Either way I choose, I condemn myself._ "He is a liar and an insolent man," Vegeta answered. "He was angry that he didn't know the local language and that he needed to rely upon me because I did-"_

_"And so you chose to deliberately embarrass him in front of his men."_

_Vegeta frowned. "He chose to deliberately taunt me-"_

_"Vegeta, Vegeta. You disappoint me, young prince. I had such high hopes for you. But, you have forced my hand. I shall appoint Ugon as my new Lieutenant, and you will learn a little respect for authority."_

_The last thing Vegeta remembered before mercifully slipping into mental darkness was the sound of Ugon's cruel laughter as Frieza tortured and beat him._

"It has always been so."

He pushed the memory away, only to see tears trickling down Bulma's cheeks because of his words. It was almost as though she'd recalled the disturbing memory along with him. "How horrible. I'm sorry, Vegeta. I'll try to be more patient."

Those damned blue eyes were getting to him again. "I did not go to that Kami damned mall today because I wanted to. But I came home with you today because I wanted to," Vegeta told her in a low voice. He took her chin in one hand. "Now, no more tears," he whispered. "Let's go eat, little one."

She definitely detected a hint of affection in his voice this time, and a smile wobbled at her lips. "Okay."

"Good." Vegeta let go of her chin. "Then you can show me my present." He stopped again in the doorway, a smirk on his lips. "I've been thinking about it all day today."

Bulma blushed. "I know."

* * *

Bulma shook her head in disbelief. "Vegeta, you astound me." How Vegeta managed to put away five servings of turkey, sausage and apple stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, salad and rolls after he'd consumed not only three steaks but everything else he'd had with lunch was beyond her comprehension, but he had done it and was waiting as Mrs. Briefs cut into the two pies she'd baked. "Where does it all go?"

Vegeta snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Woman. I was hungry."

"Yes, what a fine, healthy appetite you have, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs agreed, setting down a generous slice of Dutch apple pie à la mode in front of the Saiyan. "There's plenty where that came from if you want more, so don't be shy. Would you like some milk?"

He grunted in the affirmative and she set a glass of the cold beverage next to him, and a slice of pie beside her husband's and daughter's plates.

"Thanks, Mom. This looks absolutely delicious," Bulma commented, taking a bite. "Mmm..."

Dr. Briefs nodded in agreement. "Very tasty dinner indeed, dear."

Mrs. Briefs beamed with pride. "Are you enjoying your pie, Vegeta? Have a slice of the pumpkin, too."

Vegeta decided that the woman's mother had now earned the privilege of becoming the second person to please him that day. "Good."

"Oh, wonderful!" Mrs. Briefs hummed happily to herself as she loaded the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.

The three at the table ate in silence for a few minutes until Bulma pushed away her plate. "Mom, this pie is fabulous, but I just can't eat another bite," she moaned. "You gave me too much."

"Maybe your father will finish it for you, dear," Mrs. Briefs suggested.

"I would, but I'm full, too," Dr. Briefs responded. "I could hardly finish my own."

Vegeta shook his head and let out a little chuckle. "Weak humans," he noted around a mouthful of pie.

A fine blue eyebrow rose. "Fine, then would you like to finish it, Vegeta?" Bulma suggested.

The prince eyed her as he finished chewing. It would be stupid to shove her plate away and then fill his own again, and he had every intention of cleaning up both pie plates. He would never admit it, but the meal the blonde-haired woman had prepared that evening was one of the best meals he had ever consumed and was far too delicious to waste. "Don't mind if I do," he informed her, tipping the last few bites of her piece onto his plate.

"Would you like some more ice cream, Vegeta?" Mrs. Briefs offered before Bulma could comment.

Vegeta nodded and she hurried over with the box and a scoop. "Just leave it there," he grunted, indicating the table next to his plate with a nod of his chin.

"Oh. But won't it melt?" Mrs. Briefs contemplated.

"It won't melt," Vegeta assured her. "It will be long gone by then."

He ended up with two clean pie plates and an empty ice cream box on the table in front of him and leaned back in his chair in satisfaction. "Oh, my. You certainly were hungry, Vegeta!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "Can I get you anything else? Some coffee, perhaps?"

"Coffee?" Vegeta had no idea what coffee was.

"Mom and I had some with breakfast today," Bulma reminded him. "It's usually served hot and is a little bitter unless you put something in it to sweeten it."

"Here you go, dear," Mrs. Briefs sang, slipping a mug of the dark liquid in front of him before removing his dishes. "I just brewed a new pot, so it's fresh. We have cream and sugar too, if you want it."

Vegeta picked up the mug and sniffed its contents. It smelled good, so he took a sip. "You humans actually enjoy drinking this?" he said, setting the cup down with a grimace. "It's terrible."

"Try some cream and sugar in your coffee, dear." Mrs. Briefs set the condiments in front of him. "I'm sure then you'll like it much better."

Vegeta eyed her, contemplating telling her not to order him around but deciding he would rather not risk missing more meals like the one he had just consumed. "Hmph." At her insistence he picked up the sugar and poured a liberal amount in, followed by some cream. She had been right about everything else she had given him to eat. Perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad.

"Well?" Mrs. Briefs asked in anticipation as he took a sip of the sugar-saturated beverage.

"Hn. I suppose it could be considered palatable," Vegeta responded, again unwilling to admit that he liked it.

"See? I knew a little cream and sugar would sweeten that right up," Mrs. Briefs informed him. "Oh! I'll have to get out my cappuccino machine. You'd like that," she mused as she loaded the dishwasher. "It makes espresso, too."

Feigning nonchalance, Vegeta shrugged, but was inwardly looking forward to whatever the woman had to offer. "Whatever."

"Maybe I'll make some for dessert tomorrow. Or instead of tea at tea time? My, but that sounds odd." The blonde woman continued to chatter on to no one in particular.

Bulma could tell that Vegeta had reached the end of his patience with people in general that day and decided it would be best to call it a night. "Well, I think I'm going to go through the clothes we bought today and read for a little bit before bed," she announced.

"Are you tired already, Pumpkin?" Dr. Briefs asked. "It's hardly seven o'clock."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," she responded. "Plus, after this big dinner, I'm getting sleepy."

"You go get a good night's sleep and you'll be just fine." Mrs. Briefs placed a kiss on top of her daughter's head. "Good night, dear."

"Good night, Mom, Daddy." Bulma got up from her chair and stretched. She wondered absently just how she would manage to get Vegeta to come with her without making it look precisely like what she was doing. Instead, she headed upstairs, sure that he'd follow eventually.

She had begun to wonder what had happened to the man by the time she had finished sorting through his clothes and removing all of the tags. He still hadn't come to bed, which she found to be odd, considering she knew exactly what had been on his mind all day. Shaking her head, she peered out into the hallway.

Nothing.

Bulma frowned. "What am I supposed to do, just sit here and wait?" she mumbled irritably.

"What was that, dear?"

Mrs. Briefs had come out of her own bedroom, carrying an empty laundry basket. "Oh, I was just wondering where Vegeta was," Bulma confessed. There was no point in trying to hide the fact that she was waiting for him to come to her room, considering her mother already _knew_ about their situation.

Mrs. Briefs smiled broadly, making her daughter blush a lovely shade of pink. "That's so sweet, Bulma-"

"Mom! Have you seen him or not?" Bulma interrupted, even more embarrassed by her mother's flighty behavior.

"Why, yes. He left the kitchen right after he finished his coffee and headed for the stairs. I assumed he was coming to be with you." The blonde woman winked at her daughter.

Bulma sighed again. Her mother was hopeless sometimes. "Okay, Mom. Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, dear. Sleep tight."

Bulma couldn't help feeling frustrated as she shut her bedroom door again and looked at the sexy red teddy she'd laid on the bed. He was doing this on purpose, the jerk, and she was going to make him beg for it. She snatched up the teddy and stalked into her bathroom to change and freshen up. She brushed her hair until it shone, then pulled it up in an elegant twist.

Figuring that Vegeta wouldn't pay much attention to things like make-up and would probably only destroy any jewelry she put on, Bulma opted to forego those options and examined her appearance in the mirror. She knew she looked fabulous- good enough to eat. But she was still nervous. Would he like what she had bought with him in mind? Taking a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom.

Vegeta was still nowhere to be found.

An eerie feeling came over her, as if she was being watched. "Vegeta?" Bulma frowned and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Vegeta, are you in here?" She jumped when she felt hands touch her arms from behind.

"Boo!" a deep voice rumbled in her ear.

"Vegeta! You scared me," Bulma objected, turning to face him.

A chuckle rumbled deep in Vegeta's throat. "I know. Your scent is delicious when you're scared," he murmured, nipping at her neck.

Bulma crossed her arms. "You didn't have to _scare_ me to change my scent, you know." She sighed. "First you take your dear sweet time coming up here, then you scare the life out of me. You really do know how to kill the mood. Why did I even buy this stupid teddy? It's obviously not doing anything for you."

Vegeta put a finger over her lips. "Woman?"

"What?" she pouted.

He pulled her close, grinding his hips against her. "Does this seem disinterested to you?"

"Oh!" Bulma exclaimed, blushing suddenly when she felt the bulge in his pants pressing against her.

"Would you like me to show you just how much I like your stupid teddy, Woman?" he purred.

"I'm... I'm still peeved at you, Vegeta," she mumbled half-heartedly as his hands began to roam.

"Come now, Bulma," he breathed in her ear. "How did you put it to me? Ah, yes... I promise you'll love it." His lips brushed over the pulse in her neck, making her tremble and moan softly.

Oh! He had used her name again. Her hands reached up to rest upon his shoulders. "V-Vegeta," she managed, feeling her resistance slipping as he continued to nuzzle at her neck. Never had a man made her feel this way before, never had a man so easily aroused her so with the merest touch, a sexy smirk, or husky voice like this man could and _did_.

He slid his arms around her and drew her body against his. "Give yourself to me, Bulma," he murmured in that husky voice before claiming her mouth with his. His mind gloated triumphantly when any trace of resistance she'd had left died and her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned the kiss with definite interest. Her tongue caressed his and her fingers curled through his hair, playing with it and angling his head to better suit her position.

Vegeta allowed all of this, noting that she was much more responsive in the ways _he_ wanted her to be if he indulged her with kisses and caresses, and had to admit that it was enjoyable to do. He had never been one who was very big on kissing, but then again, he hadn't encountered many women who _wanted_ to kiss him, either. Again, he had to admit that the thought of a woman who truly wanted to please him and willingly did so greatly appealed to him.

A low growl rumbled from deep within him and he slid a hand down the woman's back to her backside. He let it linger there for a moment and gave her a firm squeeze, pleased when her hips instinctively bucked against his, then slipped his arm under her legs to carry her to the bed.

* * *

Bulma awoke the next morning as she had the previous day- alone. This time the water wasn't running in her bathroom and some of the clothes and the shoes she'd purchased for him were gone. She sighed and drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, wondering for not the first time if what she was doing was crazy or not. She'd invited an alien mass murderer not only into her home but into her bed. Would she become his next victim, or did what she knew she saw in him mean she truly could help him the way he deserved? Already it seemed that he was showing glimpses of positive progress.

She stretched with a loud yawn and slid out of the bed, then pulled on a sports bra and shorts. Stopping by the kitchen briefly to grab a bottle of water, she hastily wrote a note and headed down to her personal workout room to get in a little exercise before her mother made breakfast.

* * *

Vegeta flew back up to the woman's balcony and pushed the bedroom window open. When he'd awoken she had still been asleep, so he'd gotten dressed and left through the window to find a quiet spot to do some katas. He couldn't put his finger on why he hadn't simply woken her up and demanded that she prepare his breakfast first and pushed the thought to the back of his mind. She'd received his undeserved kindness; that was enough.

He climbed into the room to find that the woman was gone, and he didn't detect her parents in their room either. He decided to take a quick shower and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Sure enough, his sensitive nose detected the smell of food being prepared and he picked up the pace as his stomach began to growl. The blonde woman stood in front of the stove and turned to face him when she heard the kitchen door open.

"Good morning, Vegeta dear," Mrs. Briefs greeted him pleasantly. "We're having pancakes today, just like I promised Bulma. Do you like fruit in yours?"

Her question took him off guard. "I have not eaten a pancake before," Vegeta informed her. "You may prepare them as you see fit."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. He was so cute! She'd been surprised by the amount of ice cream and chocolate that Bulma had come home with the day before until her daughter had whispered to her that the Saiyan prince had a monster sweet tooth, and the majority of it was for him. The poor neglected man had never had ice cream before that day, and she would see to it that she kept plenty of treats for the delightful boy in the house. He had certainly proven his fondness for them last night at dinner. "Oh, that's all right. I'll just make a variety and you can try them all," she decided. "Bulma likes just about any pancake, so whatever you don't like I'm sure she'll eat."

"That's fine, Woman," Vegeta responded. He watched as she opened the oven door and slipped several pancakes onto a baking sheet inside, and some bacon onto a plate beside the stove.

"Oh, good. Speaking of Bulma, would you like to go see her little exercise room?" Mrs. Briefs suggested. "It'll be a few minutes before we sit down to eat, so you have time."

"The woman exercises?" Vegeta asked with interest.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Briefs agreed, pouring more batter onto her griddle. "She has to if she wants to keep that nice figure of hers. It would be so much easier for her if she'd simply cut back on all of the fattening sweets she likes to eat." The older woman tsked and shook her head.

"I suppose I might go see this exercise room," Vegeta agreed, trying not to seem as interested as he was. A physically fit female appealed to him, for obvious reasons. "Where is it?"

* * *

Bulma had finished her stretches and some shadow boxing and was currently on her treadmill. She was out of shape; she hadn't been able to keep up with her exercise very well while she was on Namek and her body had gotten lazy. She hadn't felt up to the shadow boxing for long and the treadmill wasn't proving to be much easier, as she already felt physically drained by what would normally have hardly phased her in the least. It was hard to believe that such a brief lapse in her exercise routine could cause her to become fatigued so quickly.

"Boy, am I out of shape or what?" she muttered to herself. "What's next, thunder thighs or a badonkadonk butt?"

"Don't tell me you think you're getting fat," an amused voice from behind her commented. Of course, after hearing the blonde woman's thoughtless comment in the kitchen just minutes earlier, it wasn't too difficult for Vegeta to see why the woman was so critical of herself.

Bulma jumped, startled, and was nearly carried off of the back of the rapidly moving treadmill. "Vegeta, you scared me!" she accused.

"Obviously, Woman. You almost leapt right out of your shoes," Vegeta teased. He sat down on a weight lifting bench and smirked up at her.

"What's up?" Bulma panted, trying to regain her pace. "Is Mom making breakfast?"

"Yes," he agreed. His eyes were fixed on her lithe body, and the way her backside moved beneath her shorts. It definitely gave him ideas on what to do that day. "What is this 'badonkadonk butt' of which you speak?"

"A flabby, fat butt," Bulma responded bitterly. "Just what I don't need."

Vegeta wasn't about to tell her, but he didn't think she needed to worry in the slightest about being fat. Not only was she _not_ fat, but he found her womanly curves alluring. Just as the exotic blue color of her hair and eyes were completely different from those of a Saiyan, the supple but firm curves of her body were different from the muscled bodies of Saiyan females. He _liked_ the differences. "You had best keep up with your training then, Woman," he told her instead. "It wouldn't do well for you to get a flabby, fat butt."

Bulma turned her head away haughtily. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," she grumbled. "Great, I thought I was getting chunky and this just proves it." The treadmill beeped, and the next phase of the workout program she'd selected started.

Vegeta snorted. "Whatever, Woman."

Bulma refused to look at him. "What, you're changing your mind now?"

Vegeta got up from the bench and stood behind the treadmill. He reached out to grab her shoulder and turn her.

"Vegeta, what are you-" Bulma suddenly found herself propelled by the moving belt of the treadmill off of it and right into Vegeta.

He closed a hand around each buttock. "Who said I changed my mind, hmm?" he murmured against her neck.

Bulma pulled away and glared angrily at him. "You jerk!"

"I merely agreed with your observation that you did not require a fat butt, but I never said you _were_ fat, Woman," he continued in the same low tone of voice. He chuckled when her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink. "I came in here with one thought in mind only to find you hot and sweaty, and a multitude of ideas about what sorts of pleasurable things I could do to your body utilizing various pieces of this equipment immediately filled my head." He drew her flush against him. "Would you like me to change my mind?"

Bulma's cheeks burned an even deeper pink at his insinuation. "Is that all I am to you?" she whispered.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Woman, if you do not find pleasure in my attentions-"

She hastily placed her hands upon his shoulders. "No, no! That's not it at all! I mean, I..." Bulma bit at her lip and smoothed a piece of hair behind her ear. "I do enjoy them very much, but... I suppose what I was trying to say is that there's more to a relationship between a man and a woman than sex. I... I had hoped that you were interested in me for more than just sex." She dropped her eyes.

_Why does this woman continue to allow herself to feel hurt?_ "Woman, I told you that you are making far too much of all of this," Vegeta reprimanded her softly. "Will you never remember that this entire situation is different than what I am accustomed to?"

Bulma's eyes snapped back up to meet his again. _He's never had a woman truly take an interest in him in any way, has he?_ "Oh Vegeta... I'm sorry," she whispered, taking his face in her hands. "I hadn't thought about it like that, honestly." She smiled. "Trust me, I haven't lost interest. I'm not done with you yet," she teased.

His eyebrow rose again. _What does she mean by that? Is she planning to keep me here to serve her own needs, then rid herself of me?_ "You're not done with me yet?"

Bulma giggled and drew him closer. "It's just a silly expression," she assured him. "It means I don't have any intentions of letting you go." She brushed a kiss across his lips. "Did Mom say how long until breakfast was ready? I could show you the rest of my... equipment," she purred, giving his bottom lip a little nip.

As before, she probably had no idea what her seemingly harmless actions equated in the mind of the red-blooded Saiyan in her arms, but she was about to find out. He jumped when he felt her teeth nip his lip and pulled her close, crushing his mouth against hers.

Bulma sighed and melted against him, looping her arms around his neck loosely. He pushed her up against the wall, growling as he ran his hands over those delicious curves he'd been eyeing earlier.

A buzz sounded from the wall next to them. "Bulma!" Mrs. Briefs' voice came over the intercom. "Are you still exercising?"

Bulma sighed and squirmed away from her lover's hands enough to press the button to reply. "Uhm, yes Mom."

"You sound out of breath, dear. Be careful not to overdo it," her mother counseled.

Bulma blushed. "If she knew," she murmured softly. She pushed the button again. "I'm fine, Mom. You just caught me in the middle of a good workout, that's all." She winked at Vegeta. "Is breakfast ready?"

"Yes, come and eat while it's still hot," Mrs. Briefs counseled. "I sent Vegeta down to see your exercise room. Did he stop by?"

"Yes, he's here. He was just checking out some of my equipment." Bulma suppressed a giggle. "We'll be right up."

"Your mother certainly is a pesky female this morning," Vegeta grumbled as Bulma slipped from his grasp.

Bulma giggled. "Her timing wasn't very good, was it?" She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. "Let's go. I'm starving."

Vegeta wasn't inclined to argue when it came to food and found himself following her to the kitchen. What was it about this insignificant human female that made him do as she asked? He found the very thought to be disturbing.

Mrs. Briefs was pouring coffee and juice when they arrived in the kitchen. "Good timing. Breakfast is served," she chirped good-naturedly.

Vegeta's mouth began to water as the blonde woman set plate after plate of food on the table. It smelled delicious.

"Now this is what I'm talking about!" Bulma announced, putting a couple of pancakes and some bacon on a plate. "Try these, Vegeta. I think they're blueberry." She nudged the syrup toward him.

He watched as she proceeded to likewise load up her own plate with food and drown it in syrup. "Do you think you could get any more food in your mouth, Woman?" he asked dryly.

"Bulma just loves pancakes. Waffles, too," Mrs. Briefs contemplated. "But especially pancakes."

"I'm so hungry," Bulma responded around bites. "I feel like I haven't eaten in a month."

"It's probably all that early morning exercise, dear," Mrs. Briefs suggested. "Of course you're hungry."

Vegeta ignored the older woman and poured syrup on the pancakes he'd commandeered. This was a new type of cuisine for him, almost like one of the confections he had consumed at lunch the day before. 'Pancake' seemed an appropriate name. He picked up his knife and fork, grateful that he would not have to use chopsticks for this meal, and cut off a bite.

"Do you like them, dear? If you don't, I can cook you something else," Mrs. Briefs asked expectantly.

Vegeta did like the pancakes, very much in fact. "They are acceptable," he told the blonde woman. "You may prepare another serving of them."

Mrs. Briefs clapped her hands, pleased as punch. "Oh, I'm glad. I thought you would like them. When you've finished with the blueberry pancakes, I made banana nut ones, and strawberry, and apple..."

"Did you make any peach ones, Mom?" Bulma asked, spearing one of the banana pancakes and dousing it with syrup.

"No, I forgot to have you buy some peaches. But I do have caramel topping for the apple pancakes," Mrs. Briefs responded thoughtfully. "Be careful how much syrup you use, Bulma. That's not the reduced-sugar type, you know," she reprimanded gently.

Bulma paused mid-bite and visibly wilted a little. "I... you're right, Mom. Thanks." She finished the bite and set her fork down.

"I don't mean to upset you, dear," Mrs. Briefs continued, dabbing at her mouth daintily with her napkin. "You just sounded out of shape when I buzzed you in your workout room, and you don't want to get chunky now, do you?"

Bulma was about to reply when another pancake landed on her plate, followed by a fistful of bacon. "Eat it," Vegeta told her in a matter-of-fact tone. "Many of the females at the mall where we procured my clothing had bony and unsightly bodies. I will not tolerate a bony female..." He stopped himself before he could finish with "in my bed" and huffed with annoyance at his unintended slip of the tongue.

Mrs. Briefs' eyebrows rose in expectation. She had seen her daughter bite her lip out of the corner of her eye and figured she knew what Vegeta had been about to say. "What was that, dear?"

"Nothing," Vegeta growled. "Leave the woman be. A few pancakes will not make her fat."

Mrs. Briefs was staring at him in surprise. "No, I suppose not," she conceded. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, dear."

"No, it's okay, Mom. Could we get some more of the apple pancakes please?"

"Of course dear. I'll bring the caramel syrup, too." Mrs. Briefs went over to the stove to get them. Just how much did Vegeta like her little girl? Evidently more than she'd thought if he defended her! She held in an excited giggle. Oooh, such beautiful grandchildren she'd get!

Bulma watched her mother leave the table and dish up some more pancakes. Vegeta had actually defended her! She smiled at him broadly and leaned her chin against her palm, elbow on the table, as she lovingly watched him eat.

"What?" Vegeta growled. There would be no getting out of this one unscathed.

"Thanks," she said softly. He'd actually defended her, and said she wasn't fat!

"Whatever. Eat your cakes," he demanded, gesturing toward her plate with his fork. Again, the look in her eyes was making him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to a woman gazing at him with such utter adoration in her eyes, such...

What was it? He couldn't place the emotion behind the look in her eyes.

"Mmm-hmm." Bulma picked her fork back up. Yes, she was falling in love with him, and hard. She'd never expected him do anything like what he'd just done. Maybe she was making a big deal out of it, but it was just so sweet. She took another bite of her pancake.

* * *

"Vegeta? I just... What you said at breakfast meant a lot to me," Bulma murmured as her mother began to clean up the breakfast mess.

Vegeta clenched his jaw. "Would you stop making such a big deal out of all of this?" he grumbled. He didn't know why he'd gotten involved in the first place. For some reason, seeing the woman upset had bothered him. Realizing that had bothered him even more.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't expect for you to do that, that's all. It... it made me feel better about myself."

Vegeta frowned. "The woman should not have said what she did," he insisted. "Many of the humans at the steak place were fat, but you are not fat. While I approve of your exercise, I do not want a weak, bony female in my bed," he told her, completing his earlier thought.

Bulma blushed. "Deal."

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Uhm, basically I like what you said and agree with it. But by the way..." Bulma looked over to her clueless mother, who was singing to herself in a soft, off-key voice as she worked. "Don't be upset, but she knows."

"She knows what?"

"That we're... you know." Now it was Bulma's turn to raise an eyebrow.

It was enough, and she nearly cringed when realization of what she was saying showed in his face. "You told her?" he hissed.

"No! No, I didn't tell her," Bulma whispered. "Please, Vegeta. Please don't yell."

"Then how did she find out?" he demanded. "I did not give you leave to tell anyone."

Bulma couldn't help but feel hurt. He acted like she had committed an unforgivable sin, and that the fact that anyone might know that they were sleeping together was horrific. "Well... she heard us."

"Heard us?"

Bulma nodded. "She said she was passing by my room yesterday morning and heard us. Even if she hadn't, I mean, it's not like you have your own room or anything. She would have found out the first time she came in to get my laundry." She touched his arm gently. "You're not upset, are you?"

He eyed her as if she'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard but sighed. Not that he'd ever tell her, but he was forced to admit that the woman was right. There wasn't really any point in being angry at her.

She wanted to hug him but knew it wouldn't be the smartest move at the moment. "What do you say we go find Daddy?" she suggested. "We could run the training room idea by him before he starts working on another project."

The Saiyan standing beside her visibly relaxed a little. "That will be fine, Woman."

Bulma held in a sigh of relief. "Thanks for breakfast, Mom. We're going to go see Daddy about some training equipment for Vegeta."

"You're welcome, dear. Have fun!" Mrs. Briefs called back. She watched the two young people leave and smiled brightly.

Such absolutely beautiful grandchildren they'd be.

* * *

Vegeta watched as Bulma entered a security code and the lab doors unlocked. She opened the door, indicating that he should go in.

"After you," she told him with a little wave of her hand.

"Is that you, Bulma?" Dr. Briefs' voice came from the depths of the lab.

"Yes, Daddy. Vegeta is here, too," she responded as she slipped into a long white jacket.

"Oh." The doctor sounded a little surprised at that. "Well, you two come on back, Pumpkin."

"Over here, Vegeta," Bulma told him, a twinkle in her eyes as she lead him back to where her father was working. "Don't worry, I won't make you wear a lab coat. Not unless you want one, of course." She giggled at his expression.

"That won't be necessary, Woman," Vegeta assured her dryly. "This plastic thing is bad enough."

Bulma giggled again. His reaction when the receptionist had attempted to pin the 'visitor' pass to his shirt had been priceless. "Sorry about that. Just standard procedure." They reached her father, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Daddy. I brought you breakfast."

Dr. Briefs returned the affection and took the capsule his daughter held out. "Why, thank you, Bulma. Good morning to you, too, and you, Vegeta." He sat back in his chair and regarded the sullen young man standing with his arms crossed over his chest with curiosity. "Have you come to see our lab today? I'd be happy to show you around if you like."

"The woman said that you installed a gravity system into a ship that Kakarrot was using in space, and that you have the ability to construct such a system for me," Vegeta told him without preamble. "I require a gravity chamber for training purposes, since I must become a Super Saiyan without delay."

"Hmmm..." Dr. Briefs ran a hand along his chin as he considered the younger man's words. "Are you talking about simply strength training, or will you be doing energy training exercises as well?"

"I told Vegeta that we should be able to modify the shell of one of the capsules so that it could withstand moderate levels of ki output," Bulma interjected. "I don't think that should be too big of a problem, do you?"

"No, I don't believe so. But if you want to let loose with one of those Kamehamehas that you boys are so fond of, you'll have to do that in the desert." He chuckled. "I can't build a capsule that can contain that sort of energy."

Vegeta was about to inform the older man that he didn't perform the same ki attacks _Kakarrot_ did when the doctor popped open the capsule Bulma had given him. "I don't-"

"This smells absolutely delicious," Dr. Briefs announced, oblivious to the Saiyan's irritation. "Bulma, why don't you pull the plans for Capsule Three while I start my breakfast here?"

"I can do that." Bulma had detected Vegeta's reaction and ran her fingers along his arm as she passed by. "Did you want a set you can write on, or just to look at for now?"

"We'll write on them. Print the type we can put on the light table," the doctor decided. "Have a seat, young man. We'll probably have a few questions for you along the way."

Vegeta eyed the older man but said nothing as he sat down in the seat the doctor had indicated.

"Did either of you want some coffee?" Bulma asked as she laid the blueprint she'd made on the light table.

"Thank you, Pumpkin. That would be wonderful," her father responded.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked over at the blue-haired woman who had addressed him. Coffee did sound good. "Sure, sure. Why not?" he said in a disinterested tone.

Perfectly anticipating his response, Bulma smiled at him and grabbed the entire pot from the machine, along with three mugs. "Here you go," she murmured, pouring them all a cup.

"Thank you. No, no... Nothing in it for me." Dr. Briefs declined Bulma's offer of cream and sugar. "These pancakes are plenty sweet."

"Okay. Here's the cream and sugar, Vegeta." Bulma made a point of briefly caressing his hand as she gave him the creamer.

His dark gaze bored into hers. He still didn't know quite what to think of this crazy woman. Instead, he proceeded to dump large quantities of cream and sugar into his coffee and leaned back in his chair to observe.

* * *

A young woman entered the lab. "Here you are, Dr. Briefs. A fresh pot of coffee for you." She exchanged the empty carafe resting on the table beside the two scientists and the Saiyan.

Dr. Briefs nodded to the woman. "Thank you, Tsukiko. By the way, Vegeta, this is my assistant Tsukiko. Tsukiko, meet Vegeta. He's a friend of Bulma's and is staying with us now."

Tsukiko looked at Vegeta with definite interest for not the first time. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vegeta."

The Saiyan grunted non-commitally in response. This female was openly flirtatious and wore far too much facial paint.

Bulma had noticed her attentions to Vegeta and his evident lack of interest in her. "Thank you, Tsukiko. I'll let you know if we need anything else." She leaned a little closer to Vegeta possessively and gave her a look that clearly meant no competition would be tolerated.

"Thank you, Ms. Briefs." Tsukiko murmured. There was no use in fighting with her. Not _directly_ with her, anyway. She left the room.

They could hear voices as the door shut. "Did you see him? Great Kami, he's a dream-"

Dr. Briefs looked over at Vegeta, who actually looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry about that," he apologized with a little chuckle. "I'm afraid some of them don't get out much. If you'll excuse me, I need to visit the restroom, then I'll get working on finalizing these plans. You two go enjoy your day. Go on," he urged when it appeared that his daughter was going to object. "I have the data I need to get started."

"All right, Daddy. Thanks." Bulma waited until her father was out of earshot. "So, I see that you've managed to draw the attention of most if not all of the women in this office. Just wait until the rest of them see you. Word travels fast around here."

Vegeta growled when she winked at him. "One would surmise that they have never seen a male before," he said sarcastically.

"Not a male like _you_, anyway," Bulma agreed, sidling up to him. She slid her arms around his neck and couldn't resist nuzzling her nose beneath his ear. He smelled so good.

"Woman," he objected, still annoyed by the incident with Tsukiko. "You are behaving like the old man's servant woman."

Her lips curled up in a smile. "Well, if you prefer, I could just let them gang up on you," she purred, "or I could nip this in the bud right now."

He frowned slightly and pulled back to look at her. "What are you talking about?"

The smile grew wider. "Just follow my lead, and don't overreact, or they'll think you want nothing to do with me, and that you're fair game."

"Follow your lead, Woman?"

"Yes. I intend to stake a claim within eyeshot of the biggest office busybodies. It should work fine as long as you have no objections." Her hands slid down to his chest.

Vegeta scowled. "No one owns me," he growled, removing her hands. She meant no harm, but the very thought of belonging to someone was distasteful to him.

"You didn't seem to object earlier," Bulma pointed out, giggling when he snorted and rolled his eyes. "Trust me, this is better than being drooled on by a bunch of randy women."

"Whatever, Woman. I wish to leave," he told her grumpily. He had to admit that at first the admiring looks he had been receiving from other females were flattering in a way, but he was quickly growing weary of them and didn't need these females also attempting to 'stake a claim' as the blue-haired woman had put it. Besides, while he couldn't claim to know what the woman meant by 'randy', it didn't sound like an especially good thing.

"Okay." Bulma opened the door and ushered him out.

As they reached the point where they would pass through the office with the giggling randy women, Vegeta couldn't help but wonder what his woman would do. She certainly wasn't lacking in crazy behavior herself at times. He simply determined that if she chose to embarrass him, he would make her pay for it.

Wait. _His_ woman?

Vegeta suppressed a growl. Was claiming her as his own truly his intention? This stupid woman was making his head go soft.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Bulma's arm snake around his waist in plain view of the others. "Hold on a second, Vegeta. We need to return your pass, remember?" she told him, steering him back toward the receptionist.

He grunted in response. This was the female who had attempted to touch him far more than necessary in order to pin the plastic thing to his clothing. Aside from her flirtatious behavior, she wore too much artificial scent that bothered his sensitive nose.

"Aww, leaving so soon, Vegeta?" the woman simpered. "What a shame." She pouted in an attempt to be cute.

"The sooner, the better. Your artificial fragrance pollutes the air," Vegeta told her pointedly as he removed the pass from his shirt.

Taken aback, the young woman's mouth opened for a brief moment. "Excuse me?" she asked snidely as she snatched the pass back.

"See, I'm not the only one who thinks she smells," someone else said in a loud whisper clearly intended to be heard.

The woman turned around when several employees started snickering from their desks. "Oh, shut up," she hissed.

Bulma was biting her lip to keep from laughing; it _was_ Kami-awful perfume. "Vegeta! I'm sorry, Shiori. He's not from around here," she said apologetically, but her eyes showed amusement.

Shiori calmed down a little. "Well, all right then," she said softly. She pushed a small bowl over to the edge of her desk. "Would you like some chocolate, Vegeta?"

_He's not helping the cause any,_ Bulma thought as she watched the Saiyan unhesitatingly remove several pieces from the dish. "Thank you, Shiori. Are we ready, Vegeta?"

"I brought in chocolate cake if you'd like a piece, Vegeta," a doe-eyed intern offered.

Vegeta immediately looked interested, and his eyebrow rose. He did like chocolate, and chocolate cake was even better.

"I have cookies," another voice announced.

Vegeta's lips curled up in a smirk at the obviously irritated woman standing beside him.

"I hate to steal him away so soon, but maybe another time, ladies," Bulma piped up. "We have some important things we need to attend to today."

Vegeta continued to watch her as several disappointed 'awws' were heard from the office.

"Well, come back any time and see us," Shiori told him encouragingly.

Bulma decided a more direct approach was needed and grabbed the smirking Saiyan by the waistband of his jeans. "All right, thank you ladies," she said, hauling Vegeta toward the door by his pants.

Amused by her irritation, Vegeta turned enough to give a sexy smile and a wave to the starry-eyed women watching them leave. Excited little twitters followed them to the hallway.

"Great, Vegeta. You're going to have them on you like white on rice now, you know," Bulma admonished him.

Vegeta dropped the wrapper from one of the chocolates on the floor and shoved the decadent little morsel in his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Oh! Fine, it'll be all your fault, so don't even think about complaining to me," she told him, pressing the up button for the elevator. "I at least tried. Oh, and remember how you gave me stipulations about being in your bed, which actually happens to be mine?"

Vegeta popped another chocolate into his mouth, still watching her as he did so.

"Well, I won't have you sleeping with anyone else if you plan on continuing to be in _my_ bed," Bulma told him in no uncertain terms. "I have no intention of sharing-"

Vegeta whirled her around and pushed her back up against the wall with his hands at either side of her body, his smirk returning when she let out a little gasp of surprise. "You need some chocolate to sweeten up that loud mouth of yours, Woman," he purred huskily. Before she could respond, his mouth covered hers with a chocolatey kiss.

Neither of them noticed Shiori come out into the hallway. Bulma had forgotten her cell phone in the lab, and Shiori thought she might be able to catch the blue-haired scientist before she entered the elevator. Her eyes widened when she saw Bulma and Vegeta engaged in a heavy kiss, completely disregarding the elevator which sounded behind them. She made an about-face when his hands started to wander and went back into the office.

"Why the long face? Did you miss her?" the young intern who had offered Vegeta the chocolate cake earlier asked. "It's not that big of a deal, is it?"

"Well..." Shiori set the cell phone in her hand on the desk. "I didn't exactly miss her, no."

The girl gave her an odd look and went out into the hallway, only to return, pink-cheeked and giggling. "I think it's safe to say that you won't be sinking your hooks into that hunk of man."

"Tell me about it." Shiori plopped back down at her station and reconnected her headset to the phone. "Be honest, Chieko. Is my perfume all that bad?"

"Uhm..."

"Be honest."

"It's terrible."

"Oh." Shiori sat back in her seat. "I wonder no one ever said anything to me about it?" she mused to no one in particular.

"Because you have a very nasty temper at times, especially if it's personal," came the immediate response. "What?" Chieko asked when Shiori gave her an annoyed look. "You asked me to be honest!"

"Better not ask her if your butt looks fat in those pants, then," another woman chimed in.

"What are you implying?" Shiori demanded angrily.

"She's not," Chieko insisted. "See? You're way too defensive."

Shiori sighed. "I guess I need to work on that," she relented.

Their heads turned when the door opened and a certain 'dark-eyed hottie', as one woman had described him, strolled in. "The woman forgot her portable communication device," he announced. "She sent me to retrieve it."

In actuality, Vegeta would have simply told her that she wouldn't be helping to keep her butt from becoming a badonkasomething if she couldn't be bothered to go herself, if she hadn't offered to be waiting for him in their room so that they could 'continue' what he had started in the hallway. He had balked at first, saying she'd do that anyway, when she'd whispered in his ear that she had something else to teach him that she hadn't covered on Namek. This she had stated in a very sultry voice before nipping his earlobe and telling him that she needed a few minutes to get ready, and that she'd make it worth his trouble.

Now that his boxers were behaving again, he found himself amidst the office full of admiring females, many of them attempting to feed him.

Darn. What a shame.

"Here it is," Chieko told him, ignoring the 'hey!' she received as she grabbed it from Shiori's desk. "Could I interest you in that chocolate cake now?"

Vegeta's lips curled up. "Sure, why not?" Before he knew it, he had a whole capsule full of goodies from females eager to feed him, along with promises of more of the same if he came by again. He slipped the capsule into his pocket and gave them another little smirk before leaving the office of enamored females again.

* * *

"Woman?" Vegeta tossed the cell phone onto a chair and shut the bedroom door.

"In the bathroom, Vegeta," Bulma called in response. "Did they give you the phone?"

"Yes." Vegeta opened the bathroom door, smirking at what he saw. "Well, well Woman. I have seen exotic dancers wear garments less shocking than those."

Bulma giggled and blushed. She'd bought the hot little metal-studded leather outfit some time ago but had yet to wear it before now. "I take it you like it?" she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling at his jawline.

He chuckled in response. Perhaps lowering himself to run just one little errand for her hadn't been a complete waste after all. "Indeed." He hooked a finger through the metal ring holding together the tiny scraps of leather that made up her top and pulled her forward.

Bulma giggled again when he tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her, bending his head down to kiss her. She sighed with pleasure when he began to nuzzle the side of her neck behind her ear, a spot that the pointy-haired little devil had discovered drove her wild.

Her hands ran down his sides and over his hips. "Mmmm... Vegeta, do you have a capsule in your pocket?"

"Who cares, Woman?" Vegeta responded gruffly, irritated that their foreplay was being interrupted by something so trivial. "That woman gave me a piece of chocolate cake, that's all."

"She did? Ooh..." Bulma licked her lips.

Vegeta lifted his head. "You're not seriously saying you would rather eat Kami damned chocolate cake instead of screwing, are you?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I _do_ like chocolate cake," Bulma responded, giggling at his expression. "I'm kidding, Veggie."

"Don't call me that," he growled.

"Oh, come on," Bulma cooed. She buried her fingers in his hair at the sides of his head and pulled him back down. "It's just a little pet name. You aren't dying. Besides," she continued, placing a kiss on his lips, "there are _fun_ things a man and woman can do together with chocolate as they eat it." She kissed him again.

"Oh?" Vegeta's eyebrow rose. Her ideas, as crazy or strange as they might have seemed to him at first, had never disappointed him yet.

"You already discovered one earlier today when you slipped me that piece of candy." She kissed him still again, sensing that his irritation was fading a little with every kiss. "Open the capsule and I'll show you another one."

Needless to say, Vegeta had never imagined that chocolate cake could taste so delicious.


	5. Chapter 5

Updated 1/9/09

AN: Okay, here we go: the first major turning point in the story. Actually, the first two.

I can't claim to know what Dr. and Mrs. Briefs' first names are. You probably already caught Dr. Briefs calling his wife "Bunny" in Chapter Four. I am going to call him Shatsu, which means "shirt" in Japanese.

Thanks again to my hubby for his assistance in making this chapter just right. :)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Five

"How much longer, Woman?"

The foot poking out from underneath the control panel twitched and Vegeta couldn't help but grin, knowing he had irritated the blue-haired scientist again. She got a fire in her eyes when she was angry that he enjoyed both seeing and provoking. It reminded him of the look in the eyes of a female Saiyan he'd once seen knock a rather burly male Saiyan out cold with a single punch to the jaw when he had annoyed her. "Vegeta," she began calmly, "if you ask me again I will deliberately disable this thing to the point that it will take even my father a month to figure it out," she growled. He was worse than a child in the car on vacation asking "are we there yet?" on a continual basis.

"No, you won't," he contradicted her, reaching out with his foot and rolling the dolly she was laying on out from under the control panel. "This is your project. How would it look if you couldn't fix it?"

She looked up at him and sighed in exasperation. "Sometimes I rue the day I invited you to stay here, let alone build this stupid training capsule for you," she groused. "You do nothing but eat, sleep, train and complain that 'it broke again, Woman' when you mess it up. I hardly ever see you anymore, except when you want something from me."

"Aww, I know that you really would miss me if I were gone," Vegeta teased. He reached down and hauled her to her feet, pulling her body up against his. "Wouldn't you?" He nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck, chuckling from deep in his throat when she trembled in his arms.

"You're such a bastard sometimes," Vegeta," Bulma complained, but she made no move to elude his attentions.

"Mmm-hmm." His hand moved down to swat her on the backside, and she jumped. "Just fix the thing, got it?"

Despite his selfish attitude, Bulma couldn't help but feel a sense of loss when he let her go and strolled out of Capsule Three, which she and her father had converted into this gravity training room she'd affectionately dubbed the 'GR'. She wasn't feeling all that affectionate toward it right about then. Lately Vegeta had been a pain in the ass, but when they were alone together, he could be so ardent in his attentions to her. It was those times that outweighed the annoyance and hurt she felt when he ignored her to train in this stupid GR, and kept her coming back for more of him.

Bulma lay back down on the dolly and wheeled herself back underneath the panel she'd been working on. She'd meant it when she said she hardly saw him any more, and actually found herself missing the arrogant Saiyan prince. She and her father had worked diligently on the GR for two weeks to get it ready for him to test, and test it he had. He'd broken the darn thing for the fifth time in little more than a week's time. _Well, at least he's finding any deficiencies in the design. But when we do get it right, I really will never see the man, will I?_

She sighed and took a deep breath. _I've got to calm down before I make myself sick._ She'd caught a touch of the flu which had made her tired, cranky and physically ill, and working herself up only made it worse. "Stupid Saiyan," she growled to herself as she screwed the cover back onto a sub-panel she'd opened. "He'd better not break this again, because I don't feel up to fixing it right now." She wheeled herself back out and powered up the main console, pleased when the newly repaired room powered back on.

"Are you done yet?"

Bulma didn't even bother turning around. "I swear to Kami, Vegeta..."

He'd never tell her, but she was even more beautiful when she was angry, her little fists clenched tightly shut and that luscious fire in her eyes. He chuckled and came back into the room. "Can I use it yet?"

"There's no getting through to you, is there?"

"Nope. I'm a hopeless case," he drawled, curling his arms around her waist.

She shivered when his lips brushed over her shoulder toward her neck. "No argument there."

"Well?"

"I need to run some diagnostics, then you can have your precious training room back," Bulma told him bitterly. Now that he was in a rare good mood, she had to be in a sour one.

He didn't miss her tone. "Woman, you asked me to test this room. Why are you allowing yourself to be hurt when I am only doing as you wanted?"

Bulma turned to face him. "Because like I said, I never see you anymore, not unless you want something. You don't pay any attention to me unless it's to roll me over and hop on board."

"What do you want from me, Woman?" Vegeta growled, pulling away from her. "What was I doing just now, if not paying attention to you?"

Bulma felt guilt washing over her. He had stayed in the room for a while with her while she performed the repairs that day. Granted, he'd annoyed her by asking multiple times if she was done yet, but he'd been there rather than flying off somewhere to do whatever it was he did when he flew off. And he had put his arms around her just now and showed her affection, something he wasn't oft to do. Why was she complaining? "You... You're right, Vegeta. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just feeling irritable because of this flu or something I ate. Whatever it is, I don't know. But you have been paying attention today and I apologize." She stepped back over to him, putting her arms around him and burying her face against his shoulder. "Please hold me."

He drew in a deep breath.

"Please?" she whispered, looking up at him with those large, soft, oh so blue eyes.

He scowled at her but complied and curled an arm around her shoulders.

It was enough for the time being; after all, she had offended him. "Thank you." Bulma rested her head back down. "Vegeta, will you do something for me?"

"What is it, Woman?"

His deep voice rumbled beneath her ear. "You don't have to spend all day with me or skip any training, just... it would be nice to see you before you go," she explained. "Maybe just cuddle with me first for a couple minutes in the morning."

Vegeta's reaction would have been better had she asked him to shave his princely locks. "Cuddle? I don't cuddle, Woman," he objected.

Bulma said nothing. She should have known he would say that but still couldn't help but be disappointed. Rather than object, she kissed him on the cheek and slipped out from under his arm to run the diagnostics. She swallowed, determined not to let herself break down in front of him.

They stood in silence for a few minutes until the computer finished. "Everything looks fine. Let me know how high you set the gravity at and how the room responds to different levels and methods of your training, okay? That will help me better ascertain your needs and work on upgrades accordingly."

He grunted in response.

"Okay. I'm going to go lie down a little before dinner. I don't feel the greatest right now," she told him. "See you later."

Vegeta watched her go, then set the security lock so no humans could come in while the gravity was on. He set the gravity all the way up to 150 G and began to do katas. "Cuddle, hmph."

* * *

Bulma barely made it to her room and flopped down on her bed face first before promptly bursting into tears. "What's the matter with me? He _is_ only doing what we asked him to. This _is_ why we converted Capsule Three. So why am I letting it bother me so much?" she mumbled into her pillow. "I'm actually jealous of an inanimate object, how pathetic is that?"

There was a knock at her door. "Bulma? Are you all right, sweetheart?" her mother's voice issued through the door.

"I'm fine, Mom," Bulma responded, even though she felt anything but fine.

"May I come in, dear?"

Bulma held in a sigh. Her mother was way too perceptive and wouldn't back down until she was absolutely certain her little girl was all right. "Sure, Mom. It's open."

Mrs. Briefs came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, dear?" She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and dabbed at Bulma's cheeks with it.

"Thanks, Mom." Bulma took the tissue from her mother and sat up. "I guess I just don't feel very good today, that's all." She sniffled into the tissue.

Mrs. Briefs put her arm around Bulma's shoulders. "Oh, my dear girl," she began softly, "don't be so sad. It's just a new toy for him, like when your father gets a new piece of lab equipment. I've just grown accustomed to the fact that I won't see him for a while because he'll be tinkering with it. It doesn't mean that your father loves me any less, just that he's excited by something new. You'll see-" She paused when Bulma began to sob into her shoulder, and stroked her daughter's hair. "Sweetheart, I know you love Vegeta. You don't have to explain. But I also see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is noticing. He hasn't lost interest in you because of the training room. It's just a new thing, and you know how all of your fighter friends are about training-"

Bulma began to wail. "That's the point! He's obsessed with training!"

Mrs. Briefs continued to stroke Bulma's hair. "Shhh... It'll be okay, dear. Don't cry." She laid her sobbing daughter down on the bed and covered her with the sheet. "Rest for a while. You'll feel better soon." She kissed Bulma's cheek and headed for the door. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

The door clicked shut and Bulma let herself cry for a little longer before falling asleep.

* * *

Vegeta flew up to Bulma's balcony and pushed the bedroom window open. The room was dim, but he had detected the woman's ki inside. It had felt weak; sure enough, she was asleep on the bed.

He entered through the window then went over to the bed and looked down at her, unsure as to why he felt compelled to do so. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and frowned when he saw the trails left by long-dried tears on her cheeks. The woman had curled herself up into a little ball and cried herself to sleep! Why? Why did she keep taking everything so personally, allowing herself to be hurt? This was especially the case recently. She was happy one moment, crying the next, fiercely amorous the next, then went right back to some sort of angry or weepy behavior.

Females were such an enigma, most especially this one.

He pulled some clean clothes out of a drawer and went into the bathroom to take a quick shower before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Once there, he immediately opened the refrigerator door with every intention of raiding it.

"Oh, there you are, Vegeta!"

Wonderful. Did the blonde woman have some sort of sensory perception that alerted her to his presence or something? She was always there! He glanced up at her briefly over the top of the open refrigerator door and grunted in response before going back to sifting through the leftovers from the day's meals.

"You must be hungry, dear. Let me fix you a little something before dinner," Mrs. Briefs offered. "It won't be ready for another couple of hours, and you've been training so hard, haven't you?" She fearlessly shooed him away from the refrigerator.

Vegeta would have been irritated by her dismissal had the words 'let me fix you a little something before dinner' not issued forth from her mouth. He sat down on a barstool at the counter. "Very well."

Mrs. Briefs pulled the remains of a roast from the refrigerator and placed a generous portion of the meat on a plate, followed by an equally generous portion of mashed potatoes and gravy. "So, how do you like your training capsule, Vegeta?"

Vegeta wasn't sure why the woman was attempting to make small talk with him, but he figured he should probably acknowledge her, since she was making his food. "It is serving my needs for now, but it requires further modifications."

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "That's usually what happens when Bulma and her father work on something brand new. Lots of trial and error." She placed his plate in the microwave and pushed a few buttons. "Bulma has worked so hard on that capsule. She only wants to please you and see you happy, you know." She looked up from the loaf of fresh bread she was slicing.

Vegeta shifted a little uncomfortably. What was he supposed to _say_ to something like that? He knew where the conversation was heading. "I know," he admitted. "I do not know why she continues to take things too personally. I am only testing the capsule as she asked me to."

"Of course you are, dear." Mrs. Briefs got some leftover salad from the refrigerator and placed it in a bowl. "But you have to understand that Bulma has been feeling a little under the weather lately, not to mention that her womanly time is approaching. That usually makes her a little, well, emotional right around now." The microwave sounded and she hummed to herself as she got his food out.

Vegeta suddenly realized what the woman's mother meant- her monthly cycle was approaching. This explained much; he wasn't completely ignorant of such things. "I see."

"Also, since she's been here at home or in the lab working ever since she got home from space, I think she's a little lonely. She really likes you." Mrs. Briefs winked at Vegeta as she set his food in front of him.

Vegeta couldn't help but blush slightly at her insinuation. "Sure..."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. He was so cute, trying to avoid the issue. "Speaking of Bulma, she laid down for a nap a little while ago. I think she's still sleeping. I should wake her up soon so she'll be able to sleep tonight," she mused thoughtfully.

"Let her sleep. I will go speak to her after I finish my snack," Vegeta told her as he picked up his knife and fork.

Mrs. Briefs looked pleasantly surprised by this. "All right, dear. Would you like anything else before I start on dinner?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No." He paused. "What _is_ for dinner?"

The interest in his voice was obvious and Mrs. Briefs giggled. Such a dear boy he was! She just loved feeding him. He'd try anything she made, and even though he never came right out and said so, she knew he liked her cooking. "I was thinking fried chicken with potato salad and coleslaw," she offered.

To her delight Vegeta perked right up. "Dinner rolls too?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, of course!" Mrs. Briefs assured him. "I'll make the cheese flavored ones you like so much. What about dessert?"

Vegeta realized that he had been licking his lips in anticipation and quickly stopped the behavior. "Apple pie," he told her without hesitation. "The kind with the crumbly topping."

"You mean Dutch apple pie," she told him. "Sure, I can do that."

He grunted in approval and continued to eat his meal. "Good."

"All right, that's settled then." Mrs. Briefs opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of apples. She hummed contentedly to herself as she began to wash them.

Vegeta continued eating and watched as she got out a rather strange looking device, which she clamped down onto the edge of the countertop. She then skewered one of the apples on a sharp spike at one end and turned a handle to spin the apple. He watched with interest as the fruit was simultaneously peeled, cored and transformed into a long, thin spiral.

She caught him watching and held up the fruit. "Isn't that neat, Vegeta? When that's done, all I have to do is cut the apples in two and I have the slices for your pie." She seemed pleased with herself.

He grunted again, forced to admit that it _was_ a useful little device she had there. "Good, because I like pie."

Mrs. Briefs laughed merrily and came over to take his now clean plate. "You're such a dear boy," she informed him. To his surprise, the blonde woman gave him a kiss on the cheek as she removed his plate. "I'm so glad you like the pie. Oh! I found some nice fresh pineapples at the market," she continued without missing a beat. "I have a pineapple pie recipe that's quite good. I'll make that tomorrow, maybe with a ham and yams for dinner."

Vegeta had been momentarily taken off guard by her open display of affection but managed to shake it off without her noticing. "I do not know what pineapple is," he told her.

"Bulma said you had pineapple topping on your avalanche sundae at that restaurant where you had the big steak," Mrs. Briefs reminded him. "The tangy yellow citrus fruit?"

"Oh, yes. I found it to be acceptable," Vegeta agreed. "You may prepare it for dessert tomorrow."

Mrs. Briefs beamed, not at all taken back by his 'permission' to make the pie. She figured it was just his way of saying that he thought he would enjoy trying something new but was too shy to say so. It didn't quite make sense to her, since he didn't seem to be shy at all about some things, while he was about others. Bulma had confirmed that the poor dear had experienced a harsh childhood, so she didn't pry. If Vegeta wanted to talk about it, he would. Meanwhile, she would just continue to attempt to get him to open up by trying to involve him in what she was doing and engaging him in general conversation. One never knew what he might say. "Wonderful. Did you want anything else, Vegeta? One of these apples, maybe?" She held the freshly washed fruit out to him. "I really enjoy feeding a strong young man like you, with that nice, healthy appetite of yours."

Vegeta hesitated for a moment, again taken back by her statement, then took the fruit and bit into it. He wasn't used to being pampered because the one doing the pampering actually _enjoyed_ doing it. "Thank you," he told her quietly.

Mrs. Briefs smiled fondly at him. "You're very welcome, Vegeta." Without another word, she went back to making her pie.

Vegeta truly didn't know what to make of this woman. She was as much of an enigma as her daughter was. One minute she acted like a simpleton, then the next she did something that took him completely by surprise. Oftentimes she said something quite insightful; there was no way that she could truly be as silly or dimwitted as he took her for at times. It was evident that she was fond of him and liked to take care of him. Why that was he was at a loss to explain, but it did explain Bulma. Bulma behaved the same way in that respect- she was eager to please him however she could, and he realized that it took very little to do that, just as it did to make the blonde woman happy. He rose from his stool and disposed of the apple core. "I will rouse the woman," he informed Mrs. Briefs before leaving the kitchen.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Briefs called after him.

Still a little shaken by his revelation about the older woman, Vegeta's mind was running a mile a minute as he trudged up the stairs to Bulma's room. Part of his mind nagged him that it had always proven to be to his favor when he'd made efforts to please the little blue-haired female even in small ways, while the rest of his mind screamed that he was no one's servant and that someone beneath him like Bulma should be honored that he even acknowledged her existence, let alone graced her with his presence in her bed. His hand closed around the doorknob and he opened the bedroom door.

Bulma was still asleep, although she had turned over and was now on her back. He shut the door behind him and approached the bed, looking down at her. She was fond of him. She tried so hard to please him. While she had a temperament that reminded him of a Saiyan female's more than any other woman he had ever acquainted, she was kind, considerate and loving. She was intelligent and resourceful; the GR proved that. And she was beautiful, achingly beautiful, there was no denying that.

She was everything that he had ever imagined a mate to be.

Was that truly what he wanted? He knew she wanted to be near him and was forced to admit that he felt good around her. Would it be so terrible to claim her as his mate? Again, his mind was warring. Part of it said that he was free of Frieza's slavery and the hindrance it would bring to having a mate. It told him to claim the woman and enjoy her, her home and all that she offered him. She would be _pleased_ by the gesture and the knowledge that he wanted her and only her for his own. The other part of his mind argued that she could never be as good as a Saiyan woman was, even a third class Saiyan woman, and that he should not lower himself in such a way. It would be disgraceful to take an alien as a mate. He didn't need a mate. In fact, she was a weakness to him!

He suppressed a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. He _did_ want her, damn it, and it made him angry. Would having her truly be such a bad thing? She was supportive of his desire to become a Super Saiyan and was even trying to help him do it. She had resources at his disposal that offered him a very comfortable life. His mind drifted back to her beauty, her sensuality. No woman had ever managed to provoke feelings in him like this woman had. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. He sighed, and reached over to stroke an errant piece of hair away from her face.

Her large blue eyes suddenly opened then widened in surprise when she realized who was with her, and what he was doing. "Vegeta?" she whispered.

Embarrassed at being caught by his 'weak' behavior, Vegeta stood up. "Your mother wishes for you to rouse yourself now," he told her before turning to leave.

She could sense the discomfort in his voice. "Wait!"

Vegeta turned back to her but said nothing.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Bulma also got up from the bed.

He frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, Woman," he growled.

Bulma shook her head. "Mom would have come and woke me up herself," she pointed out. "Instead, you're here."

"Is that a problem with you?" Vegeta responded dryly. "You mother is making me pie. She didn't need the distraction."

"Oh." Bulma sat back down on the edge of the bed, her eyes lowered.

Vegeta could hear the disappointment in her voice that she made no effort to conceal. Why did it bother him so much to see her so upset- especially so since he knew that not only was he the cause of it, but that he could so easily change that? "I told her I would rouse you, Woman, but it wasn't because of the pie," he admitted, his confession coming out as a mumble.

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and shining. "Vegeta?" A tear trickled down her cheek.

The hope in her eyes made his stomach twist. The woman really _was_ that devoted to him; there was no mistaking it. Vegeta found himself imagining for not the first time claiming her for his own, her screams of pleasure as his teeth pierced her, the salty taste of her blood in his mouth, the feeling of her soft, warm body clinging desperately to his. Was that what he wanted? Wordlessly he walked back over to her and took her by the shoulders. "Stop crying, Bulma," he told her gruffly.

She only started crying more then. Again, he had used her name. He so rarely did that. "I- I'm trying to," she managed. She closed the gap between them and slid her arms around him.

Vegeta decided not to argue. Instead, he ignored his head and wrapped his own arms around her. "Don't cry."

Bulma felt like she was dreaming when he placed a gentle kiss on her hair and let his chin rest atop her head. A smile trembled at her lips. "Vegeta," she whispered, turning her head slightly to place little nips and kisses on his chest wherever her lips could reach any exposed skin.

Hormones winning out, he tilted her chin up and kissed her, pleased when she responded aggressively. It didn't take long before she began to pull at his clothing, almost tearing it in her haste to remove it.

They feverishly shed their clothes and fell back onto the bed, hands roaming. A low growl rumbled in his chest; her aggressive behavior was seriously turning him on. He kissed her harder, then worked his way down her jawline to that spot beside her ear he knew drove her wild. It wasn't that far from her neck... His mind continued the war with itself. Should he continue this?

Bulma was moaning loudly now and a small shriek escaped her lips when he bit her earlobe, hard, and tugged on it, flicking his tongue against the edge of it. Instinctively she buried her face against him to muffle her vocal response to his attentions.

His body jerked above her, and he lifted his head and gasped.

Bulma's eyes widened in shock. _What the hell did I just_ do? she panicked. Vegeta was staring down at her with a surprised look on his face. She certainly couldn't blame him.

She had just bitten him.

Horrified when she saw what she had done to his neck, she lifted her hand to check whether or not there was blood on her mouth. There was, and she wiped it away hurriedly. "K-kami, Vegeta, I'm sorry," she stammered. "I've never done that before. This isn't even some kinky thing I've thought about doing, I swear. I didn't want everyone to hear us so I put my mouth against your shoulder to muffle myself and you just tasted _so_ good and I guess kind of lost control," she babbled on nervously. Pinned beneath him on the bed as she was, all she could do was stare at the blood welling from the good-sized wound she'd made where her teeth had pierced his skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. What would he think of her? What would he do?

"You must think I'm some sort of vampire, or a psychotic loony bin." She let out a nervous little laugh and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Aren't you going to say anything... Vegeta?"

The look of surprise he'd had when the blue-haired female had bitten him had been replaced with a look of pure lust. He leered at her and lowered his body down closer to hers, nipping and kissing the corresponding spot on her neck.

"You're not mad? You mean you're turned-ah! turned on by this?" she asked incredulously.

"_Extremely_," he breathed in her ear. Oh, yes. This little one was more like a Saiyan woman than he'd ever dreamt of finding. "You've got _fire_ in your spirit, not like some pathetic, weak excuse of a woman. I've thought of marking you myself on several occasions." He licked the sweat from the spot, making her shudder.

"M-marking me? Do you mean that this is like some sort of Saiyan mating ritual?"

"Not like," his deep voice rumbled, making her completely weak. "Saiyans bite each other to leave a scar showing that they are mated and off limits to other Saiyans. Saiyans also mate for life, so a permanent scar is a fitting indication."

He was breathing heavily, his hot breath on her neck making her shiver and tremble beneath him. _He _wants_ to bite me? Is he actually going to do it? What exactly does he mean by mated?_ "Oh! Oh, Vegeta," she moaned as his sharp teeth grazed her neck. She could feel his arousal pressing painfully hard against her as he pressed his body firmly against hers. She arched up against him, her head back against the pillow, her neck openly exposed and inviting. He took the gesture as nothing less.

"I want you, Woman," he growled possessively, "and I'm making you mine." His decision had been made, ironically enough, by this weak, fragile little human. It no longer mattered what anyone else thought about it or what his life used to be. She was his now, his alone. He claimed her body as he bit down hard on her neck. Just as he had imagined she screamed his name in ecstasy, thrusting her hips up against his and clinging to him as tightly as she could.

There was a bustling sound of sudden activity in the hallway. "Bulma dear, are you all right? I heard a scream," Mrs. Briefs asked worriedly, opening the door. She had come upstairs to see if Vegeta had woken up Bulma- evidently he had- when she heard her scream. Her eyes actually opened, wide as saucers. "Oh, _my!_" she exclaimed, quickly shutting the door upon seeing her daughter and Vegeta locked in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving together frantically beneath the sheets. She giggled.

Dr. Briefs had returned from the lab and had been right behind his wife when she'd headed up the stairs. "Dear, is she all right?" he asked nervously. "What happened?"

Mrs. Briefs' cheeks colored slightly and she covered her mouth with one hand, giggling again. "Oh, she's just fine, darling. And from the looks of things, I don't think we should hold up dinner for them."

"Them?" Dr. Briefs inquired, then straightened up when he realized what his giggling wife's implication was. "Oh... Oh! Well, then, that confirms _that_ suspicion."

Mrs. Briefs winked at him. "Dear, come now. He's been living here for a month now. You can't honestly expect me to believe that you didn't know they've been sleeping together."

Dr. Briefs sighed. Vegeta didn't exactly strike him as husband material, or even boyfriend material, but whatever made his little girl happy made him happy as well. "I suspected but I didn't want to pry."

His wife's excited giggling interrupted whatever else he was going to say, and she grabbed his hand to drag him away from the door. "Darling, just think of it! If she decides she likes him, what beautiful grandchildren we'll have!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

Dr. Briefs couldn't help but laugh weakly. "Oh, I think it's probably safe to say that she just might like him, all things considered." He looked at his wife, who was beaming excitedly. "Now, dear. Let's not jump to conclusions, all right?"

"He's such a sweet boy, Shatsu," Mrs. Briefs continued, as if her husband hadn't uttered a word. "I'm so happy for Bulma."

Dr. Briefs lead her back down to the kitchen. "As long as he makes Bulma happy, then I'm satisfied." He hoped he knew what his daughter was doing.

* * *

Bulma stretched and curled up against Vegeta's chest, snuggling up under one of his arms. "Mmmm... that was spectacular," she sighed contentedly.

"Of course, Woman," Vegeta responded, unwilling to admit that he too had been very much affected by their coupling. "But now that you have been adequately satisfied, I want you to cease with the behavior you have been exhibiting of late. It is not befitting of the mate of a prince."

Bulma rolled over slightly and rested on her elbow so she could look at him. "What do you mean by 'mate', Vegeta?"

"I thought I had made that clear to you," Vegeta responded. "You belong to me now, and to no other males."

Bulma's eyebrow rose, and her lips curled up into a little smile. "Does this mean you belong only to me, too? I'm not much for sharing my man, you know." She ran her finger along the side of his cheek.

Vegeta gave her an exasperated look and swatted her finger away. What she was doing tickled. "Yes, that is what I mean. So there will be no more of this weeping and playing to gain sympathy, am I understood?"

Bulma's mouth worked silently for a moment, but then she dropped his eyes and rested back down against him.

Vegeta sighed. It seemed that he would have to once again give a little more than he was comfortable doing to please this woman. He sat up against the headboard, pulling her upright beside him. He took her by the arms and shifted her to look at him. "Bulma... You have to understand something. This is the only way I know how to explain it to you."

She looked at him and nodded. "Okay. What is it?"

He thought for a moment before speaking. "I am the Prince of Saiyans, and according to my culture you are an alien. It was _unheard_ of for royalty to take an alien mate, or even a Saiyan mate who was not of noble blood. I would have been disgraced and ostracized by my people for what I have just done. I would have been stripped of my rank and title and would have lost all right to claim my throne. I know these things no longer exist, but..." He sighed and looked away.

Realization of what he was saying sunk in and hit Bulma hard. "But, it's your culture and it's important to you. It's what you have left, and you... you gave it up for _me_." Fresh tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Vegeta... I had no idea," she whispered. She took his hand and held it to her chest. "You can't possibly know what this means to me. I'm honored that of all the women in the universe, you would choose me." His intended meaning aside, how difficult it must have been for him to tell her what he had.

Vegeta looked back over to her. She was crying again, but her eyes shone with absolute affection and devotion. He knew he would need to chastise her no further. He sighed again, a lopsided half smile of resignation on his face. "Don't cry anymore, Woman," he muttered, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek. "I have found you to be a favorable woman. You are my mate. There is no more need for tears."

Bulma snuggled up to him and rested her hand on his chest, her fingers rubbing little circles on it absently. "This really does mean a lot to me, Vegeta," she whispered. "All I ever wanted was someone who cared about me, who wanted to be with me, who was devoted to me. You've given me that. Thank you." She looked up at him again and smiled.

He grunted in response and pushed her head back down against his chest, as close to saying 'you're welcome' as she figured she would get. She was ecstatic- the man she found herself falling very much in love with had just told her that she was wanted and desired. Maybe he hadn't spoken the words, but the proud and reserved man's actions were enough.

"Vegeta?"

"Hn?"

"Kiss me." She slid onto his lap.

His eyebrow rose. "I thought you were adequately satisfied," he told her in an amused voice.

"Never," she purred, kissing him. "Now give me what I want before I take it forcibly." She turned in his lap so that she was facing him.

Vegeta's chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. "It sounds to me like you want more than just a kiss, Woman." He indulged her with a kiss.

"You read my mind," Bulma told him, giggling when he rolled his eyes. "Ooh! Since you're a prince and we're mates, does that make me a princess?"

Her blue eyes teased him, but there was a tone of seriousness to her question. She honestly wanted to know. "You act enough like a spoiled child. Do I need to give you more leave to do so?" Vegeta teased back.

"Vegeta! C'mon, I really want to know!" Bulma bounced on his lap and giggled again when he growled in response. It was wonderful when he was this laid back and playful.

"Technically, yes. Although I have not officially bestowed the title upon you." Vegeta began to laugh when she scowled. "Woman, you are so easy to bait."

"Hmph," came her response, quite reminiscent of his. "Just give it to me. You need something else to call me besides 'Woman', you know."

"I don't hear you calling me by my title, Woman." Hmmm. Goading his blue-haired mate was even more amusing now that she belonged to him.

"Oh, forgive me, my Lord," Bulma responded dryly.

"That's better," he told her.

"Don't get used to it, buddy-" Bulma's tirade was cut off before it could begin by his finger over her lips.

"Hush now, Bulma. That is no way for Her Highness the Princess of Saiyans to behave, now is it?" Vegeta smirked at her expression.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

* * *

"Fried chicken is awesome," Bulma mumbled around bites.

Her parents exchanged a look. It was rare that she was so hungry, but of late she had been really packing it away. "I'm glad you like it, dear," Mrs. Briefs responded weakly.

Bulma tossed the bone from her fifth drumstick down onto her plate. "I can't believe how hungry I am."

"It's probably because you didn't eat breakfast," Dr. Briefs supplied. "Didn't you say you had an upset stomach?"

Bulma grabbed the bread basket and took another roll. "I'll bet you're right, Daddy." She'd actually been sick again that morning from her flu, but didn't want to worry her parents by telling them that. "Want another one, Vegeta?" She leaned across the table to hand him the basket when he nodded.

"Dear, what happened to your neck? You're bleeding," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed.

_How do I explain to my parents that Vegeta bit me? They're going to think he's abusing me! _Bulma's mind raced wildly. She felt the bite mark; it was indeed bleeding. _I must have scratched it again without thinking._ "I, uhm..."

"It is a bite mark."

Both elder Briefs turned their attention to Vegeta, who had a forkful of potato salad in one hand and the roll in the other. "A what, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"A bite mark, Mom-"

"You... you _bit_ my daughter?" Dr. Briefs sputtered.

Vegeta didn't know if he should be annoyed by these humans' condemnation of what they evidently found to be horrific behavior or amused by their shock. "I have found your daughter to be a satisfactory woman and have therefore claimed her as my mate," he informed the stunned doctor. "Saiyans mark their mates with a visible indication that cannot be removed. A bite fittingly suits this purpose and also serves to seal their bond by blood-"

"You _bit_ my daughter!" Dr. Briefs shouted, interrupting Vegeta's explanation. He dropped his fork and leapt up from his seat. "What the hell, man?"

_Oh, boy..._ Knowing that Vegeta would take her father's actions as both disrespectful and as a challenge to his claim, Bulma quickly moved to intervene. "Daddy, you don't understand-"

"The man _bit you_, Bulma!" Dr. Briefs howled. "Doesn't that bother you in the slightest?"

"No, it doesn't! In fact, I wanted him to do it!" Bulma shouted back, startling him. She too jumped up from her seat; her mate seemed seconds from doing so himself, if the angry and insulted expression on his face was any indication. "Daddy, you are being completely offensive to Vegeta and his culture! He was explaining what this means," she continued, indicating the scar on her neck, "when you interrupted him as if what he had to say didn't even matter! What the hell, indeed!"

Dr. Briefs opened his mouth, then closed it. "You're right, Bulma. I apologize to both of you." He sat back down slowly, looking rather bashful as he did so.

Vegeta's scowl only widened and he got up from the table. "Whatever. I don't need to put up with this," he snapped angrily.

"Vegeta, please," Bulma pleaded, taking his arm. "Please finish your dinner. I promise it'll be okay," she whispered.

Vegeta could feel her parents' eyes on him and felt decidedly uncomfortable by the situation. "I am finished," he informed her, turning away from her so he wouldn't have to see the large blue eyes so easily able to persuade him filling with tears. "I will be training." He removed her hands from his arm and sat her down in her chair. "You are too tired and irritable. Eat your food." With that he left the kitchen.

Bulma's tears turned to anger and she crossed her arms. "Thanks a lot, Daddy," she snapped. "You know how proud he is of his culture, and now it's gone. You trashed what little shards of it he had left!"

"I said I was sorry, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs told her wearily.

"Tell us about your bite mark, dear," Mrs. Briefs interjected in an attempt to soothe the hurt feelings at the table. "Maybe it can help us understand better."

_Good old Mom._ "Well, he mentioned that Saiyans mark each other when they become mates," Bulma began. Her parents nodded. "You have to understand how difficult of a decision it was for him. He told me afterwards that he would have been disgraced by his people and stripped of his rank as Prince of Saiyans had he taken a mate that wasn't nobility, let alone of an alien race. His title is all he has left, even if the only Saiyans left are just him and Gohan. He's proud of being the prince. But he put his pride aside because he wanted me for his mate. _Me,_ of all the women in the universe. He even said that makes me a princess now." She sniffled and gave them a wobbly smile as she dabbed at the tears that were beginning to spill from her eyes. "I know in my heart that he wouldn't have done what he did if he didn't care about me."

"Sweetheart, that's wonderful," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, dabbing away tears of her own. "How romantic." She got up and gave her daughter a hug and kiss. "I'm so happy for you, dear."

"I see," Dr. Briefs finally spoke up. "I can't say I'm thrilled about him biting you, but I understand now why he did it."

"Okay." Bulma sniffled again and nodded.

"I have to ask, Pumpkin... Did you bite Vegeta as well?"

Bulma blushed. "Well, uhm, yes. In fact, although he'd probably never admit it, I actually bit him first. It was accidental, but he didn't seem to mind." Her blush deepened.

The corner of Dr. Briefs' lips quirked up in a smile and he let out a little chuckle. "Good for you, then."

Bulma came over to her father and gave him a hug and kiss as well. "Thank you, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, Pumpkin. I just want you to be happy," he responded gently.

"I am happy, Daddy. All I ever wanted was someone willing to devote himself to me and accept my devotion back. He's given me that, and at great cost to himself." Bulma hugged him tighter.

"Then I'm happy for you too, Bulma."

* * *

Dr. Briefs couldn't help but feel apprehensive as he approached the GR. Gathering his wits about himself, he knocked on the door before he could change his mind.

A few seconds later the rumbling of ki deflecting against the walls inside halted, followed by the red lights shining out through the small round windows. The door opened to reveal Vegeta standing cross-armed and staring down at him expressionlessly. "What is it, old man?" he asked in a voice that sounded more upset, or possibly even distressed, than angry.

"May I come in?" Dr. Briefs stepped past the Saiyan prince before he could respond either way and made his way over to the control panel. "The missus tells me that you say the room is working well but could use a few modifications." He popped open a capsule, which contained a box of tools and some papers.

Vegeta found himself surprised but hid it. "I did not tell her what I require," he informed the doctor, who had begun running some diagnostics on the system.

"Oh, I figure I know what you'd ask for. Sorry to interrupt your training, but I'm glad to catch you while you're using the room, so I can run some tests while the computer is still active." Dr. Briefs pulled some tools out of the box and removed one of the outer control panels.

Vegeta watched as the older man replaced a small circuit board, replaced the sub-panel, and re-ran the test he'd performed. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, good. This should work just fine." Dr. Briefs packed up his tools. "I upgraded some of the circuitry to handle a higher level of power. You can now go up from 150 Gs to 350. Technically, this circuitry isn't ready to be integrated yet, so try to be careful about your energy blasts since I'll need to upgrade the room's inner shell to compensate for the higher gravity levels. Until then, perhaps you could try some strength training at higher Gs and let me know how it goes."

Vegeta found himself speechless and nodded. It seemed that perhaps the old man was giving him an upgrade, even though it wasn't quite ready, as a peace offering.

"All right, then." Dr. Briefs encapsulated the toolbox and stuck the capsule into his pocket. "By the way, Vegeta, please understand that I was only concerned for Bulma's well being. I never meant to belittle you or your culture. I simply didn't understand because that sort of thing isn't done in our culture and is viewed as extreme behavior. Rather than allow you to explain I overreacted, and I apologize. Bulma explained everything to me, and I understand now."

A peace offering it was. Vegeta pursed his lips and looked at the older man. "I see."

Dr. Briefs absently found it a little strange that he himself had said the same thing. "Vegeta," he began slowly, "if you and Bulma do indeed plan on remaining a couple, I think it would be nice to get to know you a little better. It would help me to be more understanding of you." Fearing a negative response from the private man, before Vegeta could reply Dr. Briefs handed him the papers that had been in the capsule. "Here, take these. When you get a moment, please look them over. I'd like your feedback to make the design even better."

Vegeta watched his mate's father leave. He didn't know what to figure of the old man, either. The woman's entire family was an enigma to him! He sighed, having lost his training stamina, and headed for the small living area in the back of the capsule. He flopped down onto the bed and unfolded the papers he'd been given, wondering what fool idea the old man wanted him to… look at… Was this what he thought it was?

His eyes widened.

_This_ was what he wanted! _This_ would help him train even better and harder than fighting an imaginary opponent ever could. He folded up the blueprints and shut down the GR before flying up to his and Bulma's bedroom balcony.

* * *

There was a light rapping at the window. Bulma put down her book and got up from the bed. It could only be one person, and she was rather surprised to see him come in so soon. "Hey," she said softly as she unlocked the window and let him in. "Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you back in yet."

He grunted in response and kicked his shoes off to the side, then promptly settled onto the bed.

Bulma couldn't help but wrinkle up her nose. "Vegeta, I just changed the sheets today, and you're all smelly and sweaty-"

"Shhh. Hush now, Woman." The soft, distracted tone to his voice confused her, given the agitated state he'd been in earlier.

She watched as Vegeta leaned over to her side of the bed and grabbed a pen off of her nightstand, then proceeded to sit back against the headboard. He unfolded a wad of papers and began poring over them, occasionally writing on the papers.

"What have you got there?" Bulma couldn't help but ask. She hid her smile as she noticed him absorbed enough by what he was doing that he didn't realize that he was absently chewing on the end of the pen he was using.

"Blueprints for automated training bots your father gave me," Vegeta mumbled. "Yes, I think that these will be fine…"

She managed to curb her smile once more; evidently her father- not the 'old man'- had held out the proverbial olive branch to Vegeta, who'd bitten the bait hook, line and sinker. "Are you okay?" she asked, going into the bathroom for the first aid kit.

"Hn?" Vegeta looked up from his papers at her and, realizing that he had been nibbling at the end of his pen, hastily pulled it from his mouth.

Bulma came back into the room and sat down beside him. "Are you okay?" she repeated, dabbing a little antiseptic on a cotton ball and swiping it over a cut on his arm.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Vegeta scowled at her attempts to clean him up and tried to move away. "Must you persist upon smearing that foul-smelling concoction on me every time I train?"

"First off, you're the one who's foul-smelling. Secondly, you're bleeding all over my pillowcase. And third, I wasn't asking about your training injuries." Bulma scooted closer again and reapplied the antiseptic.

His dark eyes looked up from the blueprints to meet her blue ones.

She nibbled at her lip. "Daddy didn't mean anything bad, Vegeta. Really."

"I know that, Woman. Obviously we spoke if he gave me these." Vegeta put the papers on the bed and dropped the unfortunate pen on top of them. "I am fine."

She smiled and took his hand, pulling him off of the bed and surprised that he let her do so. "I'm glad. Now go take a shower and come to bed," she coaxed softly. "I'll be waiting for you, my Prince."

* * *

Bulma woke up the next morning as Vegeta slid out of the bed. She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could get too far away. "Hey, Prince Charming. Come back to bed for a while," she said, a hint of suggestion in her voice.

"Why, so we can cuddle, Woman?" Vegeta asked sarcastically.

"Well, now that you mention it, that does sound nice," Bulma admitted.

He scowled and removed his hand from her grasp. He had engaged in enough of the ridiculous activity the day before. "Nice, hmph. I'm going to train, Woman."

"But..." Bulma watched him pull on his clothes and leave through the window without so much as a grunt goodbye, regretting for not the first time that she'd built that stupid gravity room for him. How quickly his attitude could revert back to how it was earlier yesterday in just a few hours' time. She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, nibbling at her lower lip nervously, her mind rapidly moving to what just might be a more important issue at that moment. She had almost forgotten about it in her excitement yesterday.

She hadn't been feeling well for several days now and didn't feel well that morning either. Somehow she just _knew_ that she was going to be sick again. Before it could well and truly hit her, she hauled herself out of bed and headed for her bathroom.

It was a good thing she did, for the nausea hit her so quickly that she almost didn't make it there on time. She fell to her knees and retched into the toilet violently.

"Please, Kami... Just let this be something I ate," she pleaded in a tiny voice, but she had a sinking suspicion that it was more than that. She'd hardly been outside of the house lately and had eaten everything that everyone else had.

No one _else_ was sick.

She was extremely tired and fatigued, despite getting more than adequate sleep.

No one _else_ was tired and fatigued.

She was ravenous at times, eating anything and everything that wasn't crawling away- including some truly weird combinations of foods- and hadn't taken part in any out of the ordinary activities that required more food to sustain the amount of energy than she normally expended.

No one _else_ was ravenous. Well, except for Vegeta, of course, but that was typical for your normal, healthy Saiyan male appetite.

Vegeta...

Bulma sighed again. It couldn't be anything else. Vegeta had been regularly indulging himself with her body ever since he arrived at her home. Not that she minded- she did find him to be absolutely incredible in bed.

Add to all of that the biggest clue- her period was late. Her cycle wasn't like clockwork, but it was pretty regular.

Not _this_ month.

The nausea having subsided for the moment, Bulma hauled herself up from the floor and staggered over to the sink to rid herself of the terrible taste in her mouth. "It'll be okay, Bulma. No matter what, you've always wanted to be a mom, right?" she asked her reflection.

_Yes, but the father doesn't want to be a father,_ her mind reminded her.

"If I'm... I'll deal with it," Bulma told herself. "No problem. I don't need a man to raise a child." So much for being excited over Vegeta wanting her for his mate. She placed her toothbrush in the cup next to the sink and wiped her face with a towel.

She made her way back over to the bed and sat down heavily. What to do? Someone would most certainly recognize her and blab to the media if she went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. It was inevitable. Everyone would know within hours that Bulma Briefs, heiress of the illustrious Capsule Corporation, was pregnant. It wouldn't matter whether the test came up positive or not. Just the fact that she'd simply bought a test would be enough to start the rumors flying.

Bulma grabbed her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then scrolled through her contact list. There was only one person she could trust about this right now, professional or not. Chi-Chi would freak out and ask her what the hell was she thinking sleeping with a psychotic mass murderer like Vegeta, and her mother would start doing a happy dance, go congratulate the 'happy father'- yikes!- and start making baby shower plans now that she was getting the grandchild she kept hinting about. No, Natsue had been her friend since college and would simply listen if that was what she needed.

She pressed the call button, feeling the butterflies having a heyday in her stomach. "Hello, Natsue? It's Bulma. Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Listen, I'm really sorry to bother you at home this early in the morning, but I need to ask a huge favor of you."

* * *

"I'm meeting a friend for lunch Mom," Bulma told her mother as she collected her keys. "Don't wait around for me."

"Okay, dear. Have fun," Mrs. Briefs responded.

"Thanks." Bulma popped her capsule car and got inside. "Yeah, tons of fun," she murmured as she pulled out of the driveway. She sighed. "I've got to stop expecting the worst before I even know whether or not I'm..." For some reason, she still couldn't bring herself to say the word 'pregnant'.

She drove in silence the rest of the way until she reached the restaurant. She spotted what she was pretty certain was Natsue's vehicle and parked a few spaces down from it, then went inside.

"Bulma!"

Bulma turned toward the sound of the voice calling her and smiled when she saw her friend at a table. She rushed over and gave her a hug. "Oh, it's been too long!"

"I know," Natsue agreed. She pulled back and eyed her friend speculatively. "We need to get together for old time's sake and not like this, you know."

"I know," Bulma told her sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, you're Bulma Briefs. I understand," Natsue said as they sat down.

"That doesn't mean I have to neglect my friends," Bulma pointed out.

"It's okay, B. Honestly." Natsue patted her friend's hand, then paused and looked at her a little more closely. "Are you okay?"

Bulma closed her eyes. A waitress had passed them with another table's order, and the smell of something on that tray of food did _not_ appeal to her at the moment. "No," she whispered. "I think I'm going to toss my cookies, actually."

Natsue lost no time in flagging down the nearest waitress. "I'm really sorry, but something came up and we can't stay. Could we get two of the lunch special to go please?"

"Sure, no problem!" the woman assured her cheerfully.

Natsue laid a hand on Bulma's arm. "It's okay, honey. Don't work yourself up. Deep breath." She held out a glass of water. "Here, take a sip of water."

Bulma accepted the water and took a sip. "Thanks, Natsue. For everything."

Natsue smiled. "Hey, friends in need, you know."

Bulma couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Yeah, I believe the expression is 'a friend in need is a pain in the butt', isn't it?" she quipped.

"Yeah, when it comes to you," Natsue teased back. "Hey, c'mon. You've always been there for me when I needed you the most," she said softly. "Besides, this is my profession. I look forward to treating you if you actually are-" She clammed up when the waitress approached.

"I forgot to ask you if you wanted white, brown or fried rice with your meals," she explained.

"I'll have fried, and she'll have brown," Natsue offered before Bulma could get a word in edgewise.

"What was that all about?" Bulma asked indignantly after the woman was out of earshot. "You _know_ I'm going to fight you for that fried rice."

"No, you're not. Brown is healthier and has more fiber, if you get my meaning," Natsue insisted stubbornly. She leaned forward. "Doctor's orders."

* * *

Bulma picked at the band aid on the inside of her elbow and watched the second hand of the clock on the wall as the seconds ticked by. The door to Natsue's private office opened and Bulma sat up straight in her chair as the other woman came back in.

"I have results for both the blood and urine tests," Natsue informed her. She sat down beside Bulma.

"Well?" Bulma asked nervously.

Natsue took her friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Congratulations. You're going to be a mommy," she said softly.

Bulma couldn't speak. All she could think was...

"Bulma?"

Natsue's voice snapped Bulma back to reality. "I'm really pregnant?"

Natsue nodded. "Yes. You're really pregnant."

Bulma blinked, more shocked by the confirmation of her suspicions than she thought she'd be. This was _real_. She looked at Natsue with wide, stunned eyes. "I'm pregnant. Oh, boy..."

"Are you okay, Bulma? I-"

Natsue didn't get to finish whatever she was about to say because Bulma suddenly squealed with delight and threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly. "I'm pregnant!" she shrieked excitedly.

Natsue smiled and hugged Bulma back, relieved that she was all right with the news of her pregnancy. She chuckled. "I'm glad you're happy about it."

Bulma nodded and began to giggle uncontrollably. "I can't believe it... I'm going to be a mother," she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. "I've always wanted to be a mother."

"I know," Natsue agreed. "I'm happy for you, Bulma."

"Thanks." Bulma pushed the thought of how she was going to tell Vegeta to the back of her mind in favor of being excited over her childhood dream becoming reality. She sat back in her seat. "Do we still have time for lunch?"

Natsue glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Sure. I still have almost half an hour before I see my next patient."

"Good deal. Let's dig in." Bulma pulled the capsule containing their lunch out of her purse and popped it open. "So, what do I need to do? Aren't I supposed to take a prenatal vitamin or something like that?"

Natsue opened her almond chicken and fried rice. "Yes. I'll write you a prescription and have it filled at a pharmacy where they can send it to you in the mail so you don't have to go pick it up and risk the press. We need to figure your due date, too."

Bulma nodded. Picking up prenatal vitamins would have been almost as news worthy as the pregnancy test, if one of the pharmacy techs decided to leak the contents of the prescription. "Thanks."

* * *

Mrs. Briefs was in the kitchen preparing dinner when Bulma returned. "Hello there, dear. Did you have a nice lunch?"

"Yes, thanks. I met Natsue Yamamoto. She says hi, by the way." Bulma grabbed a carton of juice from the fridge and poured herself a glass.

"Oh, I haven't seen Natsue in ages," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "How is she?"

"She's great. Her practice is doing well, too." Bulma selected a banana from the fruit bowl and sat down to eat it.

"That's nice." Mrs. Briefs turned back to the stove. "Don't spoil your dinner. It's almost ready."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm pretty hungry," Bulma assured her. "By the way, have you seen Vegeta?"

"No, not since lunch. I think he's still in that training room you set up for him. Why don't you go call him for dinner?" Mrs. Briefs suggested.

Before Bulma could respond, the topic of their conversation strolled into the kitchen. Vegeta was wearing spandex bicycle shorts and sneakers, and had a towel draped around his neck. Sweat glistened on his skin and he was slightly flushed from the exertion of his workout.

Bulma licked her lips unconsciously, openly admiring his toned body and struggling to keep her thoughts chaste. He looked good enough to eat.

Vegeta opened the refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. "Do I have time to shower before dinner?" he asked, drinking the entire bottle in one long series of gulps.

"Yes, if you can make it quick," Mrs. Briefs told him.

"Good." Vegeta left the kitchen. Bulma was about to follow him to talk to him since he appeared to be in a pretty good mood, but stopped when her mother suddenly spoke.

"Bulma, would you mind setting the table for me please?"

Bulma held in a sigh. It was just as well. If Vegeta didn't take the news that he was a father well, at least he'd be able to enjoy his dinner.

* * *

Bulma woke up feeling queasy, which she was unfortunately coming to expect. Vegeta's side of the bed was empty, and she could tell that he hadn't even come in last night. He'd gone back out to the GR as soon as dinner was over without saying hardly a word to her, let alone giving her the chance to talk to him.

"I swear I'm going to disable that stupid machine," she grumbled to herself sourly. "He's obsessed with it." She padded into the bathroom and, when it seemed that perhaps she wouldn't actually get sick after all, took a nice hot shower.

No one was in the kitchen when she arrived there, and she belatedly remembered that her father had a business breakfast that her mother had planned on attending with him. "I guess breakfast's up to me, then," she murmured to herself. "Pancakes sound good."

Bulma dug out the big bag of pancake mix and began to make batter. Deciding that some vanilla might be nice, she grabbed the bottle from the cupboard and opened it to pour a little in.

Her stomach lurched as the usually pleasing scent of the vanilla hit her nose and she quickly set it down and ran for the nearest bathroom.

* * *

Vegeta entered the house through the kitchen and made a beeline to the refrigerator. He shoved a few items aside and settled for a carton of milk he spotted on the top shelf. He sniffed it- having learned the hard way through unfortunate experience that yes, milk does go sour- and, deeming it acceptable, began to gulp it straight from the carton.

His eyebrow rose when he saw the bowl of pancake batter and package of breakfast meat on the counter, and he lowered the carton. Where had the woman's mother gone to? For that matter, the woman herself could be preparing his food, seeing as she _was_ his mate, so why had she left it to sit there and spoil? Neither woman was preparing his breakfast, and he was justifiably hungry after completing his early morning katas. Growling in frustration, he raised the carton to take another drink when he heard a moan from somewhere down the hall.

Vegeta made his way down the hallway to find the bathroom door partway open and the light on. He peered inside and saw Bulma hunched over the toilet. _Stupid woman. What did she eat this time to make herself sick?_ He leaned up against the door jamb casually.

Bulma hadn't noticed his arrival. _I hope this goes away, because if it doesn't, I'm never going to get through eight more months of this._ She groaned and clung to the sides of the toilet bowl. Her stomach lurched, and she retched into the toilet again. Not caring about the cleanliness of the porcelain, she collapsed against the top of the bowl, her head resting atop one arm, gasping for breath. "_Ohhh,_ Kami, I'm gonna die," she moaned, pushing herself up slightly and reaching up to flush the toilet.

"I see you're good friends with the porcelain this morning. Had a fun night partying, huh?" an amused voice asked from behind her.

Bulma turned and looked up to glare at the individual responsible for her current state of health. "No, drunk is more fun," she groaned. Her body lurched suddenly and she hurriedly clapped her hand over her mouth. "Kami make it_ stop!_" she wailed as she turned back around to face the toilet again before dry heaving above it. "Any other smart aleck remarks you'd care to make?" she asked wearily, sitting down heavily on the floor.

Vegeta shrugged and took another gulp from the carton of milk. "I dunno. How about 'you look like crap'. Is that a good one?" He grinned at the expression on her face.

Bulma scowled at him. "You're a real son of a bitch sometimes, you know." Exhausted, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, you know," Vegeta responded, "but I'd prefer that you leave my mother out of this. She truly was an extraordinary woman."

"Okay, whatever. Sorry to have insulted the memory of your mother," she mumbled, cupping her hands over her face and rubbing them up and over her forehead. She sighed wearily. "Would you get me a glass of water, please?"

"What am I, your personal servant?" Vegeta objected.

"No, but you could try to be a little chivalrous once in a while. After all, this _is_ your fault." She opened her eyes and peered up at him crossly.

Vegeta frowned. "What are you talking about, Woman? How the hell is you being sick _my_ fault?" he demanded. "You're crazy."

_Here goes nothing._ "No, I'm not crazy. I'm pregnant," Bulma replied casually.

He blinked. "W-what?"

Bulma sighed for the millionth time. "Come now, Vegeta. You're an educated man, aren't you?" She raised an eyebrow. "You _do_ know how babies are made, don't you?"

"Of course I know how babies are made, you foolish woman!" Vegeta shouted, recovering from his surprise. "But I don't see what this has to do with me. I have been using those round things to prevent conception that you insisted upon." He crossed his arms and glared at her.

"I beg your pardon! Just what kind of trashy woman do you take me for?" Bulma objected angrily, getting to her feet. "We weren't exactly playing Monopoly while we were on Namek, Vegeta, and we didn't have a condom then. Mate or no mate, I don't sleep around, got it? There've been no other men around here besides you and Dad, and I've been so busy here with the Nameks and and your GR and everything else that I've hardly left the grounds, so it couldn't be someone else's. You got me pregnant, Vegeta, plain and simple. _That's _what this has to do with you." She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance.

Vegeta opened his mouth to object that he couldn't be this baby's father but stopped when he realized that she had pretty much covered all of his available lines of reasoning, with the exception of one little lifeline. "What about the pizza delivery guy? You're awfully friendly with him."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Vegeta! He's a sixteen year old kid! That's just _sick_." She pursed her lips. "Look... I'm not asking you to jump for joy about this. I just... we created a life together," she said in a soft voice. "Please, at least _acknowledge_ the child, Vegeta. You _can_ tell, can't you?" He drew back when she reached for his hands, but she put the milk on the counter next to the sink and took hold of them, placing them over her belly and covering them with her own. "Can you?"

He sighed deeply and concentrated for a moment. "Yes," he admitted. "The ki is distinctly... Saiyan." He looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes.

Bulma found herself feeling sympathy toward the confused and bewildered prince. She held one of his hands in her much smaller ones. "I can see how you would feel shocked about this, Vegeta," she began softly. "I don't blame you one bit for your reaction. I mean, I was pretty stunned about it myself when I found out." She squeezed his hand gently. "Just take some time to think about it, okay?"

When he didn't respond she bit her lip, readying herself for a bad reaction to her next question. "You don't have to say anything right now, but I need to know what your intentions are."

At that, he did look at her. "What do you mean, my intentions?"

"I mean, what are you going to do now?" she asked nervously. "I want you to be a part of this little boy or girl's life-"

"The brat's ki is male," Vegeta interrupted.

Bulma smiled at him. "See? You'll have an heir. And who better to teach him about his culture and heritage and lineage, than you? Who could train him better?"

He looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Bulma wasn't sure what to think of it. "I think these sorts of things are important, especially since he will be one of the last of the Saiyan race. Don't you?" She let go of his hand and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She found it a little disconcerting when he just stood there, not even making any effort to prevent her or shrug her off.

"Hold me, Vegeta," she whispered. "Please."

He looked down at the soft blue eyes imploring him and sighed. _Damn it. How did I become so weak?_ he berated himself as he found his arms wrapping around her.

She pulled closer to him, moving to rest her head against his shoulder. He was keenly aware of her enticing body pressed against his own. Her hair smelled sweet and felt silky against his bare shoulder. Her soft lips brushed against the side of his neck. He fought against the warmth he felt growing within his body. Why should a weak human female evoke such feelings in him? _I do __not__ have such pathetic human emotions,_ he reminded himself firmly. _She cannot affect me in that way._

"Vegeta?" her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Is it safe to assume that you're all right with all of this?" she inquired in a low voice.

"What do you mean, Woman?" he asked. "I haven't said anything yet about it."

"You must have been pretty lost in thought there," she murmured, nudging up against him deliberately, "if you didn't notice the fact that you have a huge erection."

His brows raised momentarily in surprise. She wasn't kidding around with her adjectives. He tensed and let out a grunt as she ground herself up against him and his arms tightened around her. "Woman..."

Her eyebrow went up and she smiled. "Would you like me to end your misery and take you upstairs?" she asked seductively, looking up at him through her lashes. _This is fun! I actually have the Prince of Saiyans in the palm of my hand._ She giggled. _Well, not quite yet, but soon._

"I thought I was a real son of a bitch," he groaned between clenched teeth as she continued to wriggle her hips against him.

"That may well be," she purred, her hands running down his back to grab his butt. "But I still have needs." She squeezed firmly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin and grabbed her about the waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Before she even knew what had happened he was halfway to the stairs. _So much for not letting this woman affect me._ But at the same time, his mind was so fixated on the carnal activities he was anticipating that he just didn't care.

Bulma felt her stomach lurch. "Vegeta, stop," she requested. When he didn't, she tried again. "Vegeta... Vegeta! Would you hold on a minute?" she shouted, squirming in his arms.

He stopped halfway up the stairs. "What are you yelling in my ear for, Woman?" he growled. "What's your problem?"

"I _don't _like being carried like this. I find it demeaning," she informed him firmly. "If you want to carry me, I'm fine with that and even think it can be pretty romantic at times, but not over your shoulder. And if I stay this way much longer, I'm gonna puke all over-"

She was back on her feet before she could even finish her sentence.

"Go, Woman," he urged her on, herding her the rest of the way up the stairs.

They hadn't even made it to their bedroom when Vegeta pushed her against the wall in the hallway and began nuzzling her neck, growling deep in his throat. He ground his hips against hers and his hands were roving madly everywhere. She moaned in encouragement, encircling her arms around his neck, holding him close.

Now that the initial shock was over, he was taking this much better than she'd expected.

"Yecch!" Vegeta pulled back, a disgusted look on his face. "Ugh! You taste revolting, Woman!"

"Sorry," she said, giggling at the expression on his face. "I _was_ rather ill earlier, as you recall."

"Well, hurry up and gargle some of that green stuff, will you?" he demanded. "You got me all bothered, and I'm going to have you, Woman." He shut the bedroom door behind them.

"Don't you go getting all mean and pushy with me, Prince of all Grumpy Saiyans," she retorted, going into her private bathroom and getting out some mouthwash. "You'll get your jollies, never fear." She poured some of the mouthwash into a glass and sipped it into her mouth, eyeing his reaction as she made quite a show out of swishing it, exaggerating the sucking motion her mouth made.

"That's enough, now hurry up and spit it out," Vegeta demanded impatiently. "I want to screw already!" He recalled thinking how stupid the Earth expression was the first time he'd heard it, but had determined that it had something to do with mating. It would suffice for now.

"Pushy," Bulma interrupted as she exited the bathroom, smiling coyly at him. "You were saying?"

He all but tore her clothes off, flinging them carelessly away. Still growling, he yanked off his own tank top and shorts and tossed her down onto the bed, climbing on top of her and pushing her legs apart with his knees.

"Hold your horses, not so fast there, cowboy," Bulma instructed, pushing him back.

Vegeta found his patience fading fast. "What the hell is the problem _now,_ Woman?" he exclaimed, his voice coming out halfway between a shout and a wail.

"Nothing," she replied casually, "other than the fact that _I_ intend to be the one in control this morning." She surprised him by suddenly turning them both over so that she sat atop him. "You're not going to argue about it, either... _are_ you?"

* * *

He lay staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, his brain temporarily disconnected from conscious thought.

"Vegeta?"

He made a little grunt in response.

She grinned and leaned over to smirk down at him. "I take it that you enjoyed your little physical therapy session with Dr. Bulma Briefs, hmm?"

His head turned slightly and his eyes focused on her. "Wha- what the hell did you _do_ to me, Woman?" he asked incredulously.

Bulma rolled her eyes dramatically. "I guess I'll have to retract the 'educated man' assumption I made earlier," she teased, leaning down to kiss him.

He grabbed her shoulders, holding her still. "Do it again."

So she did.

* * *

"Hurry up with my food, Woman," Vegeta demanded impatiently. "I'm hungry."

"Well, I'm hungry too," Bulma retorted. She poured some batter into the pans on the stove. "If I'm not nauseous, I'm hungry. It's very annoying."

Vegeta shrugged. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"You could try being a little more empathetic. I can hardly stand the smell of this batter right now," Bulma informed him. She gave him an indignant look over her shoulder. "I hope I'm not sick the entire pregnancy."

Vegeta let out a loud huff and crossed his arms. "What do you _want_ from me, Woman? I cannot change the fact that pregnant females become ill," he retorted irritably.

Bulma turned to him. His words made her think that if he could do something for her, perhaps he would. On the other hand, he might just be being insensitive. She decided to go with the former. "You can be here with me. I don't mean all day or anything, or that you shouldn't train. I think it's important that you reach your goal of Super Saiyan too, and I'll be very proud of you when you do." He looked surprised by her words, and she took advantage of it by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close. "I just wouldn't mind a little bit of time with you now and then. I wasn't lying when I said I miss you, even if you are grumpy."

Vegeta scowled but didn't pull away. Her fingers were rubbing the back of his head at the base of his neck and it felt good. His eyes closed and, without realizing he'd done so, he sighed.

_Gods, I love this man. Why can't I help him enjoy life, especially now that we're going to have a baby?_ Bulma mused mentally. _Well, I suppose I shouldn't complain. He did take the news that I'm pregnant a lot better than I thought he would. I just have to try to be patient with him. He's been through so much._ She smiled when she felt him relax. Eventually she got him relaxed enough that his forehead rested upon her shoulder.

It didn't last long.

Vegeta lifted his head from her shoulder and wrinkled his nose. "Woman, is my breakfast burning?"

"Oh!" Bulma yelped as she remembered the unfortunate pancakes on the stove. Sure enough, they were burned to the pan on one side and raw on the unturned side. She cursed and yanked the pans from the heat.

"For Kami's sake, Woman! Now what?"

"Now they're burned beyond saving."

"I can see that. And smell that."

"I'm not making any more batter. The smell of it was what sent me to the bathroom when you found me."

"So what am I supposed to eat? You destroyed my food!"

"I'm hungry too, remember?"

"Simple. Hurry up and cook us something."

"Simple? I don't feel like cooking. We can have cereal."

"Cereal?"

"Yes, cereal. There are several boxes in the cupboard."

"I drank the milk, remember? Besides, you cannot seriously expect me, the Prince of all Saiyans, to consume something that comes in a box with a green-clad, frolicking elf on it."

"One: it's a leprechaun, not an elf. Two: come off it. You ate me out of house and home so we don't have many choices. We need to go shopping."

"What's this 'we' nonsense you're spouting, Woman?"

"Is something burning?"

Both participants of the bickering match turned to see her parents standing in the doorway. "Hi Mom, Daddy."

"Yes, the Woman burnt my pancakes," Vegeta tattled irritably, "and she has no intention of preparing any more."

"Oh, my..." Mrs. Briefs giggled, her fingertips over her lips. "Don't worry, dear. I'll make some more for you. Poor Vegeta, you must be _so_ hungry," she cooed.

"Yes, His Grumpiness is famished-"

"You were whining of being hungry, too," Vegeta pointed out. He grinned openly when she turned the irritated expression on her face from her mother to him. He was getting a kick out of bickering with his woman; in fact, it turned him on. She had that sexy flush on her cheeks and that fire in her eyes that he found irresistibly alluring when she was angry.

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. "Hmph."

"Are you going to behave this way the entire gestational period, Woman?"

"Vegeta-" Bulma interrupted nervously, noting the surprised reaction on the part of both of her parents.

"Because it's extremely irritating to put up with," Vegeta finished. "I hope this is just a phase."

"Gestational period?" Dr. Briefs echoed. "Bulma-"

"_You_ find it irritating?" Bulma forgot about being nervous about her parents finding out and turned on the Saiyan standing smugly beside her. "You're not the one who's constantly tired and already craving weird foods and nauseous every day and-"

Bulma was interrupted by a squeal of delight from her mother, who threw her arms around her. "Are you saying I'm finally going to be a grandmother?" Mrs. Briefs shrieked. "Sweetheart, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you, dear!" She next rounded on Vegeta before he could escape. "And such a nice, handsome young man for my grandchild's father, too!" She hugged the startled Saiyan tightly. "Congratulations to you both! Oh, I need to make some phone calls..." Her voice trailed off as she rushed out of the kitchen.

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment. "You're pregnant, Bulma?" Dr. Briefs finally asked.

"Yes. I went to see Natsue yesterday and she confirmed it for me," Bulma responded in a quiet voice.

"I see." The doctor could see the excitement in her eyes. "And you are the father of this child, young man?"

Vegeta shrugged. "The Woman claims it to be so," he informed him.

Bulma hit him on the arm. "We already went over this, you jerk!" she shouted. "Besides, you already confirmed that the baby's ki is Saiyan, and-"

Vegeta put a finger over her lips. "You are so easy to goad, Woman. I accept that it is my brat you carry. Calm yourself."

"Are you happy about this?" Dr. Briefs asked. Both expectant parents looked at him.

"I'm very happy," Bulma whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"Then I'm happy for you too," Dr. Briefs told his daughter.

"Thanks, Daddy," Bulma whispered, giving him a hug.

Dr. Briefs returned the hug gently. He had serious doubts about Vegeta's desire or ability to be a father but decided to allow his daughter to do as she pleased, which included her relationship with Vegeta. He had already upset the two of them when he had interfered earlier, and didn't need to distance himself any further from the man who was now a permanent part of his daughter's life. "As long as you're happy, that's all that matters to me."

"Thanks," she whispered again, pulling back from her father. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Despite his earlier resolve not to interfere, Dr. Briefs could remain silent no longer. The Saiyan prince had rather casually acknowledged the child Bulma carried as being his, but hadn't said how he felt about her pregnancy. "And what about you, Vegeta? Are you pleased about being a father?"

Vegeta found himself taken aback by the older man's question. It was not what he had expected to be asked at all, and he frowned. "You ask of a private matter," he responded curtly.

Dr. Briefs returned the frown. "I'm not trying to tell you how to run your life, but this is the welfare of my daughter and grandchild we are talking about, young man," he retorted. "I deserve an answer, as does Bulma."

Bulma had been about to object but instead, the force of her father's words caught her by surprise and she turned to face Vegeta. "Vegeta, I don't want to put you on the spot and I respect your need for privacy, but I agree with Daddy. You and I need to talk about this. Why don't we go somewhere else and talk?"

"There is nothing to talk about, Woman," Vegeta growled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I'll leave you to it," Dr. Briefs interjected. He turned and left the kitchen, hoping that this man would prove to be of better character than expected. He had seen another, much more agreeable, side of Vegeta, and hoped for his daughter's sake that it wasn't simply a fluke thing.

Bulma waited for the kitchen door to shut. "Vegeta?" she asked in a wavering voice.

"What is it, Woman?" Vegeta responded in a low tone of voice.

Bulma stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. "I... I want to know how you _do_ feel about me being pregnant," she whispered. "You told me that you didn't want me to get pregnant, yet you didn't seem angry when I told you about our baby. You took it a lot better than I expected," she pointed out. "I guess I'm a little confused because I don't know how to respond to that."

"There is nothing to respond to," Vegeta insisted. "You are my mate and you carry my son. I might have expected that it would happen eventually, so I see no point in becoming overly angry about the brat."

Hope rushed through Bulma. "So... You're saying you're all right with this? Are you happy-"

"I am saying that I want you to leave off harassing me about this," Vegeta interrupted tersely. "What is done, is done. The brat exists. Now, have your mother prepare some food. I'm hungry." He turned to leave the kitchen.

Bulma's shoulders fell. "But, I..." There was nothing else to say as she watched the kitchen door shut. She wrapped her arms around herself, struggling desperately not to cry. "Just give him some time to think Bulma," she told herself. "He wasn't angry. He's probably just as confused and nervous as you are. It'll be just fine."

* * *

Vegeta leaned back against the trunk of the tree he was perched in and sighed. The fact that he was a father was starting to really and truly set in, and he was at a loss as to how to feel about it. He never expected to be a father, not ever. He didn't _want_ to be a father. The children he had seen on this planet were unequivocally brats. He didn't want to be bothered with a brat. The woman would want him to act the role of a human father to it. He didn't mind training the boy when he was old enough, but his mate would probably expect him to participate in a woman's role of raising the brat.

He sighed again. How did the woman expect him to react? She knew he didn't want a brat, and suddenly she tells him that he was a father. When she instantly wanted a response and he didn't have one for her, she became upset. He kicked at a branch forking off of the one he was sitting on, getting a feeling of satisfaction when it splintered off and fell to the ground. It helped get his mind off of the situation.

"Oh, my! I need to be more careful," a female voice exclaimed from below.

Vegeta peered down to see Mrs. Briefs standing beneath the tree and looking rather shaken. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't sensed her approach and had nearly flattened her with the tree branch. He actually felt a slight twinge of remorse; the woman could be an annoyance at times, but he would never intentionally harm her. Besides, she was going to feed him. That wouldn't happen if he hurt her. "I wasn't aware that you were there," he told her in a level voice.

"Oh, it's all right, dear," Mrs. Briefs assured him. "I could see you were thinking and figured you probably just didn't see me." She paused, seemingly to change her mind about what she was about to say. "Did you have a preference of what kind of pancakes you want?"

Vegeta looked down at her. She had a slightly pleading expression on her face, and he realized that she was trying not to anger him by speaking about the child despite having been so excited at the prospect of being a grandmother. "No," he told her. "Whatever you prepare is fine."

"All right." The blonde woman continued to peer up at him, her hands wringing her apron in what appeared to be an unconscious nervous gesture as she bit her bottom lip.

Vegeta sighed still again. There was no winning against these females; he'd had better success in battle before. "She is weeping again, isn't she?"

Mrs. Briefs opened her mouth and quickly shut it again before giving him a little nod.

Vegeta let out an exasperated growl. "All right, Woman. I am coming in with you." He dropped down from the tree beside her. "Know this. I do not have an answer for Bulma at this time. I never wanted to be a father. I never _expected_ to be a father. But it has happened. While I am not angry about it, I do not wish to be forced into telling her what she wants to hear only to placate her." Thoughts of Frieza's court, of kneeling before the evil tyrant and forcing himself to all but worship him while acting as if he were sincere drifted through his head. They sickened him. To this day, he couldn't stomach insincere people.

Mrs. Briefs actually looked relieved. "Why, that's fine, dear. You just need some time to think about all of this. I know nothing changed my life as much as having Bulma did. If you want, I could talk to her for you."

"That's not..." Vegeta paused. He didn't need anyone else nosing into his business, but how many times had he reluctantly admitted that this woman wasn't as moronic as she made herself out to be? She was, in fact, quite the opposite. Perhaps the woman would listen to her mother.

"I'm only offering, dear, because Shatsu was a little stunned himself when he found out that I was carrying Bulma," Mrs. Briefs supplied, interrupting his thoughts. "We hadn't expected to be having a child when we did, but when Bulma arrived, Shatsu was an absolutely wonderful father." She smiled fondly at the memory and patted Vegeta's arm.

"That will be fine."

Mrs. Briefs opened her mouth again, unsure of what he meant. "Do you mean the child, or speaking to Bulma about it?"

Vegeta's eyes flicked over to hers; he hadn't considered that she would take his comment that way. "You may speak to her," he responded, "after we eat."

Mrs. Briefs' smile lit up her face. "I will, dear. Don't worry, she'll be fine." She patted Vegeta's arm again. "You'll be fine too." With that, she headed back toward the house, leaving him to wonder still again how this woman was able to do the things she did with respect to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Reformatted 12/25/09

AN: This chapter has a bit that I've had written for a while now (the doctor's office) and particularly had fun writing. I hope you enjoy - I think we all have run into a child like Yoshi from Chapter Four or a 'dear Chomei' (or worse yet, his utterly clueless mother) from this chapter, and can fully appreciate poor Vegeta's anguish.

For those of you who may feel that Vegeta is a little out of character in places here, I am more inclined to believe, at least for the purposes of this story, that Vegeta's true nature really isn't cold, cruel and heartless; that's simply what he's been conditioned to feel ever since he was taken from his father. These are the only emotions he allows himself to feel because they are 'safe' in that they at the very least cause no physical pain. Since he has now been accepted by people who actually _care_ about him despite his past, this creates conflicting emotions that he's not comfortable with and doesn't know how to handle, since these emotions have only brought him pain when they have been used against him, and he withdraws again into that comfort zone devoid of positive emotion. However, I also envision him as a bright, mischievous little boy full of life before he was taken, and little glimpses of that sometimes show through in his behavior. Will more glimpses peek through the cold façade he's erected? Only time will tell!

Thanks yet again to my hubby, who I truly love and cherish, for reviewing this chapter for me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Six

Bulma dried her hands and took a deep breath. This had to get better. She couldn't be sick the entire pregnancy, could she? She opened the door of her private bathroom and stepped out.

Nuiko, Bulma's personal assistant, rushed over. "Are you all right, Bulma?" she murmured.

Bulma nodded. "I just don't know how much more of this I can take."

"It'll get better, honest. I was sick with my daughter for the first trimester, then it really lessened up," Nuiko offered. She handed Bulma a glass of water.

"Thanks." Bulma accepted the water and took a sip.

"You're how far along now?"

"Almost seven weeks," Bulma responded, taking another sip.

"Just hang in there. It'll get better soon," Nuiko said encouragingly. Her eyes darted up to the door. "By the way," she began hesitantly, "I think the non-natives are becoming a little restless."

"I refuse to wait for much longer, Woman!" an irritated voice growled right on cue through the office door.

Bulma groaned and set the water down on her desk. "Again?"

"Apparently." Nuiko came around behind Bulma's desk to answer the phone when it rang. "Go ahead, I'll answer this."

"Thanks again." Bulma opened her office door, revealing a very irritated Vegeta standing there. "Did the GR break again?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Yes. I need you to come fix it immediately," Vegeta demanded, tightening his already crossed arms over his chest.

Bulma had never felt more tired in her life. "Vegeta, I wish I could leave right now but I just can't," she told him quietly in an effort to avoid a scene. She didn't need the client waiting for her to hear them argue. "I have a very important meeting to go into in-" she looked down at her watch- "three minutes, and I was just very sick again."

Vegeta growled and opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it.

"Please Vegeta," she whispered, taking his arms gently. "Don't be angry. I'll fix your GR just as soon as I can leave, I promise." Her hands moved down to tug his hands out from under his arms and hold them in hers, and she leaned closer to place a quick kiss on his lips. "If I mess up this meeting, it'll be really, really bad for us. Hey," she said brightly, a thought coming to her. "We have a very nice workout room for the employees here. It even has a pool where you could do laps. I'll give you my pass. Nuiko, where's my pass?"

"Your pass won't let him in the right locker room, Bulma." Nuiko had ended the phone call and was busily gathering the things Bulma needed for her meeting. "I had this all ready. How did it get so disorganized?"

"Oh. You're right. I know, maybe you could use Daddy's." Her large blue eyes pleaded with him to acquiesce just this once.

"Or I could have Hina issue Vegeta his own pass." Nuiko handed Bulma a thick file and a notepad with a pen clipped to it. "That way he could come here whenever that stupid piece of tin that you can't seem to fix properly breaks." Her eyes twinkled with amusement when Bulma looked over at Vegeta with what was clearly not amusement.

"What?" Vegeta asked defensively. "It _is_ a piece of-"

"I suggest you go use the workout room," Nuiko interrupted with a laugh. "You, go." She steered Bulma into the main office and toward the adjoining conference room. "I'll take care of him."

Vegeta looked around Bulma's private office as Nuiko herded her off. He had been here a couple of times in the past couple of weeks when the GR had broken, but had never stayed long enough to actually snoop around. The room was fairly large with pictures on the walls and two overstuffed guest chairs in front of the desk. A large potted plant, which Vegeta quickly discovered with amusement to be a very good fake, stood in one corner. There was a large window behind the desk which let in a nice amount of sunshine and had a good view of the grounds.

"Okay, I'm back."

Vegeta turned from the window as Nuiko reentered the office. He said nothing, just stood there wearing his ever-present scowl.

Nuiko ignored his grumpiness. "Come with me and we'll get you your pass." She beckoned for him to follow her.

Grudgingly Vegeta followed the woman through a short series of hallways until they reached an office with a sign reading HUMAN RESOURCES on the door. "Oh, good morning, Gai," Nuiko greeted the man she saw standing by the receptionist's desk and looking through a file. "Is Hina in today?"

Gai eyed Vegeta critically. He knew who this man was without ever having seen him before, simply because of the office gossip which had been spreading like wild fire the past couple of weeks about Ms. Briefs' 'hot new boyfriend'. "No, she's off today," he responded.

"Oh." Nuiko paused, waiting for an offer of 'is there something I can help you with?', but it didn't come. "Well, Gai, this is Vegeta-"

"Yes, yes. I've heard all about you," Gai interrupted. He shot a smirk Vegeta's way.

"Vegeta, this is Gai Tottori, our Human Resources Director," Nuiko continued before Vegeta could react to the other man's impolite behavior.

The prince within Vegeta silently stewed. He didn't know what it was that this Gai creature knew 'all about' him, but only for his woman's sake, he would tolerate this human. He forced himself to at least nod politely to the man, who he deemed unworthy to receive the typical bow Bulma had shown him that was customarily used when being introduced to other humans. He had not received one, nor would he give one.

"Anyway," Nuiko continued, "I need to get an access pass for Vegeta so he can use the gym-"

"I never got his employment papers," Gai interrupted again. "You know we don't grant access to people who aren't employed here."

Nuiko held in her sigh. "Bulma has personally given clearance for Vegeta. I'd suggest that you call her if you need verification of that, but she's in a meeting right now."

Gai's mouth curled up in another smirk. "Oh, I'm sure she has," he remarked sarcastically.

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Vegeta growled, taking a step forward.

"Never mind, Vegeta," Nuiko intervened. "Gai, just issue him a pass, would you?" she asked, trying to keep an irritable tone from her voice.

"Or else you'll go crying to Bulma, right?" Gai pulled a plastic badge from Hina's desk drawer and sat down at the computer to activate it.

"We'll need full access to all facilities," Nuiko informed him in a no-nonsense tone.

Gai looked up at her briefly before returning his attention to the computer. "Whatever. It's active." He tossed the badge on the desk. "Come back when Hina is here and she'll put your name and picture on it."

"I know you know how to do that," Nuiko said quietly.

"Yes, but I have better things to do than waste my time gratifying what everyone's boyfriends want," Gai told her snidely. "So unless you have anything that's actually important for me, you can go now."

Nuiko snatched up the badge without another word and guided Vegeta, who was visibly offended, out of the office. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. He's known for being rude, but he's just..." She shook her head.

"An ass?" Vegeta finished for her dryly.

Nuiko couldn't help but giggle. "In a nutshell, yes. The gym is this way," she told him with a wave of her hand. They went down another series of hallways and got into an elevator down to the basement. "The gym is down here, along with some storage space," she explained.

Vegeta grunted in response. He was still disgruntled by Gai's rude behavior and didn't really care what was in the basement, as long as he'd be able to do some sort of training while he was here.

"Here." Nuiko handed Vegeta the badge. "Your badge acts like a pass because it has an electronic strip in it that the little card readers by the doors pick up. Just slide your badge through it."

Vegeta did as she directed. The reader beeped and the door unlocked with an audible click. It reminded him somewhat of the access system on Frieza's ship, except that a handprint and retinal scan were needed instead of a pass. Frieza had been quite paranoid despite his power, and everything had security on it. One of Vegeta's favorite things to do had been either gaining access to places where he wasn't permitted or getting someplace he was permitted without being detected. It had become something of a game to the young prince.

They entered a room which immediately sectioned off into men's and women's locker rooms. Again, the pass was needed, Nuiko explained, and he repeated swiping his pass. The door to the men's room clicked open, and she gestured that he go inside.

"I'll go through the women's lockers and meet you in the gym," Nuiko offered.

"Why not just walk through here?" Vegeta held the men's room door open.

Nuiko blushed slightly. "That's not proper," she objected.

Vegeta snorted. "There are no other males here. Come along, Woman." He ushered the embarrassed woman into the locker room. Truth be told, he wanted her to show him the facilities available in this room.

"Well... I guess I could give you a little tour," Nuiko relented, as if reading his mind. She showed him the lockers, showers, and toilets. "Now, on to the gym."

They entered the main gym. Vegeta's brows rose; they had quite an impressive selection of equipment. This might be useful after all.

"Before you take a look around, let me show you the other rooms," Nuiko's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We have a sauna, dry heat room, Jacuzzi, pool, and an indoor tennis court."

* * *

Vegeta lowered himself down into the warm depths of the Jacuzzi. After the rigorous workout he'd put himself through- the most rigorous workout he could manage utilizing equipment meant for humans, anyway- followed by a couple hundred laps in the pool, the hot water felt wonderful. He sighed, letting his head settle back against the cushioned headrest and his arms along the top edge, and closed his eyes.

Perhaps this was not so bad after all.

All was quiet for a few minutes until the spa door opened.

"I'm _so_ glad it's Friday," a female voice declared.

"Oh, you and me both," a second female voice responded. "It's been a long week... Hel_lo_, what have we here?"

They exchanged a look. They'd heard rumors that Ms. Briefs' new boyfriend was hot; this had to be him. Didn't he realize they were standing there? One of them wriggled her eyebrows and licked her lips, and the other smacked her on the arm and mouthed 'stop it, you pervert!' to her friend.

Vegeta opened his eyes when the women let loose a smattering of uncontrollable giggling. He eyed the two pink-cheeked young women standing next to the Jacuzzi but said nothing.

"Hi," the first young woman said with a little wave. "I'm Tsumugi, and this is Orika. We work in R&D."

Vegeta responded with a little noncommittal grunt, and another smattering of giggles peppered his ears.

"Mind if we join you?" Orika asked, boldly slipping into the Jacuzzi without waiting for an answer.

Vegeta shrugged. "Whatever." His eyes closed again.

"C'mon, Tsumugi! The water feels great! Don't you want to come in with us?" Orika stretched like a cat, deliberately letting her toe rest against this might-be mystery man's leg. If the queen bee herself was going to let such a nice honey loose in the wild, she might as well see if she could get a little taste of her own.

Tsumugi felt a little uncomfortable. She loved to flirt as much as any other girl did, but with her boss' boss' boyfriend? That was suicide! "Uhm, sure, O..." She slid into the water beside her friend. "So, are you new here, Sir?" she asked as she attempted to nudge the other woman's toe away from her intended victim's leg as discretely as possible.

Vegeta's eyes opened again. Unlike her flirtatious friend, it seemed that this female might merely be trying to be polite. "I am not employed here."

"Oh." Tsumugi paused. "Do you know someone who works here?"

Vegeta held in a sigh and resisted the temptation to simply tell her to go away. There would be no rest for the weary today. "I am Vegeta-"

"Ooh, so you _are_ Ms. Briefs' boyfriend, I knew it!" Orika squealed excitedly.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her. Boyfriend? The word sounded so... infantile to him. "The woman is my mate," he confirmed.

"That's so sweet," Orika simpered in a way that made Vegeta look past the fact that she had used the word 'sweet' in favor of wondering if she honestly felt that way. "Although, I imagine she can be difficult to handle, since she has quite a temper at times-"

"Orika!" Tsumugi exclaimed, blushing in embarrassment.

"What?" Orika asked innocently. "Tell me you've never seen her mad at someone." She turned her attention to Vegeta, who had yet to comment. "You're a big, strong man," she observed, running her eyes over his wet physique appreciatively. "Does she ever yell at you?"

Vegeta looked over at her, deciding that attempting to put this one in her place through chastisement might not be the most effective plan of attack. "Hmmm... frequently," he responded. This was followed by a throaty chuckle and a smirk naughty enough to make even Orika herself blush.

Orika covered her mouth with her hand and giggled almost hysterically. The look Tsumugi was giving her told her that she dared not ask any more such questions, even though she was dying to.

Vegeta rested his head back down against the headrest, mildly amused by the behavior of these strange females. Just as he was beginning to relax, he opened his eyes again. "In here, Woman," he called out.

Momentarily, Bulma came into the room. "Oh. Hello Vegeta, ladies," she said slowly. Finding Vegeta in the hot tub with two attractive young women wasn't exactly what she had hoped for, but considering who the women _were_, she wasn't all that surprised. The one, especially, had a reputation for being a rather incorrigible flirt, and she had to wonder if the girl had tried to put the moves on her mate. "Vegeta, Mom said you missed lunch and wondered if you had a request for dinner. She hasn't started it yet."

Had he really been here that long? "Hn, whatever," Vegeta responded casually, "as long as I get _you_ for dessert." The naughty smirk returned, inciting further twitterings from his tub mates.

Bulma couldn't help but blush. "Uhm... Enjoying the Jacuzzi, I see."

"Yes, I've been busy conducting a little R&D," Vegeta continued in a lazy voice, making the two women in the hot tub with him continue to giggle. "This is the 'R' part."

"Oh?" Bulma asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Vegeta rarely acted this way, and she had to admit that she found herself intrigued by his behavior. "What about the 'D' part?"

"We'd best discuss my findings over dessert, don't you think?" He looked up at her from under heavy eyelids, that smirk that made her weak at the knees tugging at his lips.

"Vegeta..." Bulma whispered weakly, finding herself blushing even more deeply. Who knew that Vegeta could be such a flirt? She couldn't claim to know if his behavior was meant to show up the other two women's flirtatious behavior and insinuate that his interest in the female sex did not extend to them, or if he was in an unusually playful mood and truly meant to flirt with her. It didn't matter at the moment. What he was doing would actually help her cause; once Orika started gossiping about the afternoon's events, everyone would know that yes, not only was the moody dark-haired man indeed Bulma Briefs' boyfriend, but he had flirted with her shamelessly while pretty much ignoring them. He'd be off-limits. Of course, when the right person happened to find out that Bulma was pregnant, the rumors would _really_ fly. At least there wouldn't be speculation about who her baby's father was.

Vegeta chuckled and got out of the Jacuzzi. "Actually, I _am_ pretty hungry. What do you say about skipping right to dessert instead of waiting for dinner?" He curled an arm around Bulma's waist and pulled her up to him.

"V-Vegeta, you're getting my clothes wet," Bulma managed.

He chuckled again and began nuzzling behind her ear. "Maybe you shouldn't be wearing them, then," he breathed suggestively. He let her go and ushered her toward the door. "Ladies."

"Bye, Vegeta!" Orika called out. Tsumugi merely waved.

When they had gone, Tsumugi let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Orika, that was..."

"Disappointing? _Tell_ me about it," Orika interrupted. "He's _so_ hot! Why can't I get a hottie like that?" she whimpered. "And that devilish little smirk of his! Kami, I wanted to-"

"Never mind, I get the picture," Tsumugi interrupted in return. "And I had been thinking that the situation was awkward, incidentally."

"Hmph. That's just because you're a prude and he was practically naked, yum." Orika settled back into the water.

Tsumugi sighed. "O, we came here to relax after a crazy work week. Let's just do that for once, okay?" For not the first time, she wondered how she'd become friends with such a sex-crazed party woman like Orika.

* * *

"Not that I'm complaining about the attention, but what was that all about?" Bulma asked as they headed for the locker room.

Vegeta smirked at her. She was actually jealous! Even though he didn't feel he owed his mate an explanation, this just might prove to be a fertile source of entertainment to him. "I was in the water when the two females approached. The noisy female got right in with me and began behaving promiscuously toward me."

Bulma nodded and rolled her eyes, not surprised in the least. Orika flirted with any attractive male with a pulse.

"Her friend seemed embarrassed by it and attempted to quiet her by asking me who I was," Vegeta continued. "When the noisy one discovered that you are my mate, she deliberated that you would be difficult to handle because of your temper." He grinned at the irritated expression on the blue-haired scientist's face.

"Oh, really?" Bulma retorted. "If she wants to see my temper-"

"Shhh, Woman." Vegeta placed a finger. "I put her in her place," he murmured.

His eyes actually twinkled with amusement. "You did?" Bulma asked in surprise. Orika hadn't looked hurt or even upset in the least; she'd just sat there giggling like a teenage girl.

"When she got bold enough to ask if you ever yelled at a big, strong man such as me," Vegeta continued with renewed amusement at his mate's reaction, "I told her 'Hmmm... frequently'." He chuckled and smirked at her just as he had earlier, pleased when Bulma's reaction was a blush that rivaled Orika's. "Ah, that's just what she did. And then you arrived."

"I never knew _you_ were such a flirt," Bulma accused him.

"Hmph," was the only response she got, but the smirk remained in place.

"So you flirted with me just to put Orika in her place?" Bulma's voice sounded a little put out and she dropped her eyes, her bottom lip extended into a pout.

It was Vegeta's turn to roll his eyes. "In part, yes. But you worry far too much, Woman. Have you forgotten whose brat you carry, whose mark you bear?" He ran a finger over the scar on her neck, pleased when she shivered at his touch. "Hmm?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not." She looked up at him to see him smirking at her, but his eyes didn't mock her.

"Good." He drew her close again. "You know that I do nothing without purpose, Bulma. Now there is little doubt in the minds of those females who you belong to, or what my intentions regarding you are."

Bulma blushed again. He wouldn't have openly flirted with her in such a manner if he hadn't wanted to. She should have known that. "Are you referring to dessert?" she asked coyly.

"Ah, yes. Dessert," he purred in her ear. "We need to discuss the 'D', remember?" He tilted her chin up and kissed her.

They broke the kiss at the sound of giggling. Sure enough... "Don't mind us, just coming through," Orika announced, stepping past the necking couple where they'd stopped in front of the locker room doors. "Continue!"

"Sorry..." Blushing, Tsumugi followed her friend into the locker room. The door closed behind her with a click, and more giggling could be heard through it faintly.

* * *

Bulma gave the bot she was working on one more quick once-over before powering it on. Upon activating it floated up and hovered over the table, responding perfectly to whatever voice commands she gave it. Satisfied for the moment, she had the bot maneuver itself into a box before powering back down. She wouldn't do any further testing. That was Vegeta's job. She wasn't as nimble as she used to be anymore and didn't want to face a laser shooting robot of something went awry.

She lifted the box with a small grunt and balanced it on one hip as she left the lab. Hopefully Vegeta would like his new toy. No, it was much more than a toy. It was state of the art technology, able to both create and volley energy blasts, respond to voice commands, and discern patterns in Vegeta's moves in order to adjust accordingly and provide him with a more challenging training session. Even if the bot needed modifications, it was definitely a step up from the shadowboxing he'd been doing. She and her father had met with Vegeta to discuss the notations he had made on the blueprints- which they hadn't been able to read anyway, considering they were written in the Saiyan language- and determine which ideas he'd had that they would be able to incorporate, either now or at a future time. She had worked on the bot after hours for the past two weeks and felt a little nervous now that it was finally ready.

Suddenly realizing that she'd left her purse in the lab, she made an about face and swiped her employee badge to let herself back inside. The door clicked open at the same time the box on her hip decided to slip. "Stupid box," she muttered to herself as she fumbled with the box in one hand and the door with the other. The problem with the doors with security mechanisms was that the handle had to be grasped and pulled to open the door before the lock closed again, which was quite difficult to do if one had one's hands full. "Why didn't I just encapsulate it and be done with it?"

"Oh! Ms. Briefs, let me help you with that," a voice exclaimed behind her.

Bulma gratefully allowed her savior to take the box from her. "Thank you, Akimitsu. I should have encapsulated this, I guess."

Akimitsu smiled. "Hey, it's no problem at all. I'm sure you were just so ready to get home and off of your feet that you didn't even think about it. I know my wife felt absolutely drained during her first trimester, so don't hesitate to ask if I can help out with anything else," he offered.

"Aww, thanks again," Bulma said softly. She had always liked the quiet young man from Financial Services and was a little disappointed that he didn't have a science background instead of an accounting degree.

"Any time," he assured her. He carried the box in and set it on a table. "Now get whatever you need to get and go home!"

Bulma chuckled. "Oh, I fully intend to."

Akimitsu gave her a little wave. "Good night, then."

"Good night." Bulma pulled her purse and an empty capsule from her desk and quickly encapsulated the box before locking back up and heading for the living quarters. She'd been extremely grateful that another employee had been passing by and offered to help. Akimitsu had been right- she was more tired than she had realized.

Making her pregnancy public knowledge at work had been easier than she'd thought it would be. She suspected that Orika amongst others had gossiped about her relationship with Vegeta, so by the time everyone knew about him, someone observant must have commented that she acted like she was pregnant. Nuiko had told her privately that there was indeed a rumor going around and that she had personally been asked if Bulma was pregnant; she had wanted to know what she should tell people who asked. Bulma had told her to just confirm it. There really wasn't any point in denying it. By that time, at nine weeks, some of her clothes were already becoming uncomfortably snug or had even become too small. Everyone would be able to _see_ that she was pregnant, and she didn't feel like trying to hide it.

"Hey, Mom. It smells great in here." Bulma tossed her things down on the kitchen counter and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, dear. Dinner is almost ready." Mrs. Briefs slid a batch of rolls into the oven to bake. "You look so tired. Why don't you rest for a little bit?"

"I think I might do that," Bulma agreed. "Maybe I'll watch the evening news."

"All right. I'll call you when it's ready. You go relax." Mrs. Briefs turned back to the stove.

Bulma grabbed her purse and the capsule holding the bot and wandered to her room to change her clothes. Her beautifully tailored business suit had felt restrictive and uncomfortable all day, and she was forced to admit that at only two months pregnancy it was time to cave in and buy some maternity clothes. She pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and laid down on the bed, then turned on the television.

The news didn't seem interesting anymore for some reason so she shut it off. "Now it's too quiet in here," she muttered to herself. The best solution for that was... "I wonder where Vegeta is?" Bulma got up from the bed and peered out of the window. The GR didn't appear to be active. "He's not training. Maybe he went back to the gym? But it's too close to dinner. I should go find him. Great, now I'm talking to myself." She grabbed the capsule and headed toward the den. For some reason, she just felt that he'd be there.

Her intuition proved correct when she peered into the den to find the Saiyan sitting cross-legged in front of the television, a video game controller in his hands. She couldn't hide her smile- who would have thought that the Prince of Saiyans himself would like video games? "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Vegeta's eyes remained glued to the screen.

"What're you doing?"

Vegeta paused, as if he was unsure he had heard her correctly. "What does it appear that I am doing, Woman?"

"Playing Tetris."

"I guess the rumors are true. You really _are_ a genius." A smirk curled up on Vegeta's lips, and he looked up at her out of the corner of his eye.

Bulma giggled, and his smirk widened a little. "I love it when you're cute."

"I am _not_ cute, Woman." He smirked triumphantly as he completed still another four-line Tetris. It hadn't taken long for him to become proficient at several of Bulma's games, and Tetris was currently his favorite.

"You're handsome, though." She tossed the capsule onto the couch and bent over to kiss his cheek.

Vegeta grunted in objection. "Leave off, female. Your hair is hanging in the way," he complained, but it was evident that he wasn't irritated by her display of affection.

Bulma knelt beside her mate and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. "Guess what?" She smiled when he sighed.

"I give up."

"You give up? You haven't even guessed yet."

"No, I meant I give up when it comes to you, Woman."

Vegeta still didn't appear to be annoyed or upset with her, and Bulma knew that he was enjoying their mild verbal squabble. "Oh! You're impossible," she informed her mate, who was openly amused by her frustration.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Me, impossible? You're the one interrupting my game, Woman."

Bulma let him go and stood up. "Fine. I'll leave instead of giving you the _present_ I brought for you." She couldn't help but gloat when he immediately paused the game and reached out to grab her hand.

"You know I am only teasing you, Bulma," Vegeta told her, pulling her into his lap. His lips nuzzled the side of her neck. "Give me my present."

Bulma giggled, squirming with pleasure at the delightful sensation of his lips upon her neck. "Oh, now you're suddenly interested in me when you realize that I have something for you?" she teased back.

"Mmm-hmm." He dropped little kisses along her jawline and then kissed her lips. "So, what about my present?" he murmured.

Bulma wrapped her arms around him. "I'm right here. What more do you need?"

Vegeta snorted. "I have more than anyone needs when it comes to you, Woman," he declared. "But you said you brought me something. You'd better give it to me, or else."

Bulma continued to giggle. She loved it when he allowed himself to be playful. "Or else, what?"

Vegeta ran a finger along the arch of her bare foot and smirked when it twitched in response. "On second thought, do resist. I'll just be forced to tickle it out of you-"

Curse the man if he didn't already know each and every tickle spot she had! "No!" Bulma shrieked and tried to scramble off of his lap, but it was no use; he held on tight, his hands poised to commence tickling.

"Then you'd better give me my present," he breathed in her ear, loosening his grasp on her to wrap his arms around her more comfortably.

Bulma's eyes closed and she sighed as he resumed dropping tiny kisses up her neck. "O-okay," she managed, gasping when his teeth nipped her earlobe and tugged gently. He was seriously turning her on, damn him, and she knew he knew it.

He chuckled again, making her body go absolutely weak in his arms. "I knew you'd see things my way," he purred.

"Uh-huh." Bulma smiled at him drowsily. He could be so romantic when he wanted to- "Hey!" she exclaimed, suddenly finding herself being brought to her feet.

"Come now. Go get my present," Vegeta insisted, giving her backside a little swat. "There will be time for this mushy stuff later."

Bulma would have pretended to pout if she hadn't been giggling. If he didn't find his behavior or the fact that he was unconsciously picking up Earth colloquialisms and habits to be cute, he was sorely mistaken. "Okay, but I'm going to hold you to that, big boy," she informed him, retrieving the capsule. She sat down and patted the couch, indicating he should sit beside her. "Come here."

Curiosity got the better of him and he obeyed, coming over to sit down on the couch. "Fine, Woman."

Bulma tossed the capsule onto the carpet and unencapsulated the box. "Ta-da! Open it," she urged.

He looked at her briefly then leaned down to open the box. Bulma watched intently as he did so, a wide smile slowly spreading across her face as his brows rose and he fought to hold back his excitement. He looked like a little boy in a toy store who was being told to pick out the very toy he'd been asking for. He looked back over at her. "My bot!"

"Yep. Once I show you how to program it to respond to your voice, you can make it do things like this." Bulma cleared her throat. "Bot command: activate." The machine powered itself on and rose out of the box before them.

Now he _really_ looked like a kid in a toy store, only this time he knew the candy store was the next stop of the day.

Bulma giggled at his expression and tried another command. This time the bot followed her when she got up from the couch and walked across the room; a third command had it sending itself back over to the box and powering itself back off. During all of this the Saiyan remained motionless, watching with the silent observation of the proverbial hawk.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Bulma plopped back down onto the couch beside her mate.

"It appears to function appropriately," Vegeta responded slowly. He was still in awe that the little human female he had mated had really constructed this machine in such a short time. If she and the old man could create his GR and now this bot, what else could they create that might enhance his training? "Does it perform in the other areas we discussed?"

"It should," Bulma answered. She wasn't certain how to interpret his reaction. "I didn't final test anything that should only be used in the GR. I'll leave that up to you. Let me know if anything needs adjusting."

He nodded and picked up the robot from the box. He let out a snort and shook his head. His woman really was something else, that much was certain.

Bulma's face fell. "Don't... don't you like it?"

Vegeta turned to her instantly. "Bulma, you misunderstand me. I am simply impressed by your handiwork. It is everything I had hoped for." A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, and he looked back down at the bot.

Bulma let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You're happy with it, then?" she asked, relieved.

"Yes, I think this will work quite well for my training." Vegeta did not further attempt to contain his pleased expression as he examined the bot. Every change they had agreed upon had been incorporated, and he was indeed very happy with the end result.

Bulma smiled, tickled pink that he liked the bot. "I should be able to get half a dozen or so done for you over the weekend, and more later if you don't run into any issues with them that need changing."

"Good." To her surprise, Vegeta's expression had further softened, the constant scowl he wore no longer present. Instead, he was looking at her with what she could only describe as fondness. "I am not impressed solely by this bot. In fact, I am quite impressed by you." He reached over to cup her cheek, letting his fingers tangle in the hair framing her lovely face.

Bulma blushed, never having expected such a statement from him. "Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered.

He grunted in response and placed the bot back in the box.

Bulma smiled and maneuvered herself up onto his lap. "Don't I get a thank you?" she asked mock innocently.

"Hmph." But then, he smiled. Not a smirk, or a grin, but an honest to goodness smile that made her breath catch. "What kind of thanks would you like, Princess?" he asked in a low, throaty voice. He ran his fingers through her hair, a feeling that he had very much come to enjoy.

His behavior took Bulma off guard, and she found herself lost in his deep black gaze. "I want hugs and kisses," she heard herself whisper.

Vegeta chuckled. "Just hugs and kisses, Woman? You're easy to please," he teased.

Bulma shook her head. "No, not just any hugs and kisses will do. I need the ones that only _you_ can give me."

It was the right answer, one that he was startled to realize that he'd actually _wanted_ to hear. His smile returned and he curled his arm around her, holding her close as his lips descended upon hers.

Bulma felt herself melting into him as he kissed her with a passion that she'd never felt from him before. She slowly slid her arms around him and returned the kiss with enthusiasm. He had never kissed her or even held her like this before.

It was absolutely wonderful.

Vegeta ended the kiss and pulled back to look at her. "Why are you crying?" He smoothed a tear from her cheek, tsking gently. "You please me greatly, Woman," he confessed. "There is no reason to cry, is there?"

Bulma shook her head. She hadn't even been aware that she was crying. "N-no." She gave him a shaky smile. "This is another good cry."

Vegeta cupped her cheek in one hand. "Don't cry, Bulma," he whispered before kissing her again. His hand tangled itself back into her hair, cradling her head, and his other hand caressed her side.

Bulma could feel a low rumbling from his chest. She'd heard him growl while kissing her before, but somehow this rumbling was different. It was almost as though he was _purring_, much like a contented cat would. Another surge of emotion at this discovery rushed over her, and she held him closer, returning his kiss with every ounce of fervor she had.

* * *

Mrs. Briefs wandered down the hallway, humming to herself as she walked. She intended to call her daughter for dinner, but Bulma wasn't in her room. Bulma had indicated that she would be watching television, so she peered inside the den. The poor dear had looked so tired after her day- oh! "Oh, my..."

"Did you find her?" Dr. Briefs asked, coming up behind her.

"Shhh!" His wife placed a finger over her lips. "Have a look," she whispered, smothering a little giggle.

Her face beamed as brightly as the sun; perhaps something cute was on the television. But why try to keep quiet about that? Dr. Briefs took a turn peeking into the den, only to do a double-take when he saw Vegeta kissing his daughter with a great deal of passion. The two were so absorbed in their kiss that neither noticed him.

"Aren't they adorable?" Mrs. Briefs simpered once her husband recovered enough to close the door.

"Yes, quite," the doctor agreed. He was astounded by the situation. Vegeta had confessed to finding Bulma to be a 'satisfactory woman' and he had witnessed them kiss before, but never had he seen the stoic young man display that much passion, or even emotion in general, toward her before. It made him wonder what exactly Vegeta's intentions were as far as Bulma was concerned; while he had claimed her as his own, he was so reserved and irritable most of the time, and now the man was holding his daughter, kissing and caressing her as if she were the most perfect and precious thing in the universe, as if they were long-time lovers rather than two people who had only known each other for a matter of weeks. But, so lost was the young couple in their kiss that neither had noticed the interruption of the two older Briefs, and Dr. Briefs was certain that Vegeta wouldn't have so openly kissed Bulma the way he was had he known they were being observed. He was far too private of an individual for that. He truly didn't believe that Vegeta was putting on a show, or indulging his daughter with a kiss of that type simply to please her.

He didn't know what to think.

Mrs. Briefs' happy sigh reclaimed his attention. "He's _such_ a sweet young man," she declared. "I'm sure he'll be a wonderful father, too."

"I hope so, Bunny." _For all of their sakes._ The thought of Vegeta growing tired of his 'mate' and son and what might happen because of that was disturbing.

Mrs. Briefs pooh-poohed that comment. "Dear, Vegeta is just shy about expressing himself the way we do," she insisted. "He cares about Bulma, even if he doesn't know how to tell her. So he does sweet things, like giving her nice kisses." She smiled. "If he's good to our little girl, surely he'll be good to his own little boy. Men like Vegeta just treasure their sons." She continued down the hallway, humming contentedly to herself as she went.

Dr. Briefs thought about this. His wife was actually quite a good judge of character, and he was probably just being an overly protective father. Maybe he was just having trouble letting go of his baby girl. He followed his wife to the kitchen. They would come for dinner when they were ready.

* * *

Bulma pulled back to look at her mate. She had an overwhelming urge to tell him that she loved him, but was loathe to do anything that might ruin the mood. Instead, she favored him with an enamored expression. "Vegeta?"

Vegeta resumed nipping and kissing her neck. "Hmm?"

"Make love to me."

He lifted his head from her neck. Despite finding the Earth expression she had used to be utterly ridiculous, he had become accustomed to hearing it. This time had been different. Her voice was full of desire, of need, even more so than usual. She undeniably wanted him, and only him. There was no way he could refuse this woman, even if he wanted to. Again he smiled, letting his guard down only for her. "As my princess desires," he murmured in her ear, slowly lowering her down onto the couch.

* * *

To Bulma's satisfaction, Vegeta's new bot worked remarkably well, and he was so pleased by it that she promptly constructed several others. Her satisfaction, however, quickly deteriorated into resentment as once again her Saiyan mate corralled himself into the GR for long periods of time. She resented the fact that he'd come out only to eat and shower, perhaps even expecting a quick little roll in the hay with her before returning. At one point he stayed in the GR for almost three days straight without emerging.

She awoke one morning a week from the day that she had given him the first bot, surprised to find him asleep in the bed beside her. She sighed sadly. It seemed like forever since they had last woken up together. Most of the time he got up to train before she even woke up. He had been so affectionate, so... _sweet_ to her until he'd decided to test his 'new toy', as her mother had put it. And now? She watched him sleep, deciding to enjoy what little time she had with him before he left her again. She reached out, lovingly stroking the hair at his temple. It was amazingly soft and thick.

His dark eyes opened and her hand paused momentarily before continuing to stroke his hair when he didn't move away. He looked at her sleepily but remained silent.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey, yourself," he responded, rolling over onto his back. He yawned and stretched, then grabbed her and pulled her to his chest, one burly arm wrapping lazily around her back.

She smiled against his chest and cuddled up to him. "What are your plans today?"

"I will train," he responded simply.

"Oh." Even though she'd already known his answer, Bulma couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when he said it.

Vegeta caught her tone. "What is the matter, Woman? I am cuddling you as you are so fond of, am I not?"

"Hmph. I wouldn't want you to do anything _too_ unpleasant," Bulma sulked.

Vegeta turned his head to look at her. "Would you like me to leave, then?"

"No." Bulma's grip on him tightened. "I just... It's like before, when you got the GR. I _miss_ you, Vegeta. All I want is a little of your time. I feel lonely when I hardly ever see you." She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

He let out a long sigh. What did she want him to say? "I am not attempting to dismiss you, Woman. I simply must train in order to become stronger. Already your machines have assisted with that, but they alone cannot accomplish what only consistent training can."

At least he was talking to her. "You like the bots, then?"

He grunted in agreement. "You will need to repair them."

"You broke my bots?" Bulma exclaimed, pushing herself up enough to look at him.

"Is it all that surprising? The GR breaks too, when I train strenuously."

She held in a sigh. At least they weren't 'stupid pieces of tin' yet. "How bad is the damage?"

Vegeta contemplated this. "One is completely ruined. The others only require minor repairs."

"Oh." Bulma laid back down against him. Her finger traced along a scar on his chest. "This is new, isn't it?"

"Yes. The bot that I ruined exploded, and a piece of shrapnel cut me."

"Ohh..." Bulma lifted her head enough to kiss the small hurt. When she felt him tense beneath her, she kissed his chest again. A low growl of desire rumbled through his chest, and she smiled in triumph, continuing to shower little kisses on his body.

He quickly rolled them over and his mouth descended upon hers.

* * *

"Are you hungry?"

"What do you think?" As if on cue, Vegeta's stomach growled in answer.

Bulma giggled. "I'm famished too. Mom went to another business breakfast with Daddy, so let's go out. I wouldn't mind having some pancakes."

Vegeta remembered her last pathetic attempt at cooking breakfast and was inclined to agree. She was not a _bad_ cook per se, but she could not prepare breakfast if her life depended upon it. "Fine."

Bulma's smile quickly became a frown as she attempted to zip her pants. "Well, so much for wearing these pants any longer. I guess I'll have to go buy some different clothes."

Vegeta watched as the woman kicked off her pants into a sad little puddle of fabric on the floor and returned to the closet in frustration. Already her once nicely toned belly bulged a little where the child grew within her body. He found himself absently wondering how large her belly would become and quickly dismissed the notion. He didn't need those sorts of thoughts distracting him. The brat was the woman's concern, not his. His current concern entailed food and his stomach, then training. "Just wear a female's garment. They do not require such closures." He indicated the garment he had in mind with his hand, a simple yet classy navy blue a-line dress.

"You mean a dress? I suppose I could," Bulma responded. Suddenly she realized that _Vegeta had picked out something for her to wear_ and pulled the dress he had chosen off of one of the multitudes of rods in her enormous closet. "Actually, that's a good pick. I think this one still fits."

He crossed his arms and grunted non-committally, trying to seem disinterested. He had never seen so many garments belonging to one individual before. His woman had a sickening amount of clothing and normally he didn't pay attention to what she wore, but he _had_ noticed this blue dress, as well as a red one he had particularly liked. They were both very feminine and flattered her form and her exotic coloring. "Fine, good. Hurry up, Bulma. I'm hungry," he urged her.

"I'm hurrying." Bulma turned to her lingerie drawer before her smile reemerged. Her mate may not have realized he was doing it, but of late she was 'Bulma' a little more often and 'Woman' a little less often.

* * *

"So, will you come with me?" Bulma closed the car door and pulled her seat belt across herself to buckle it.

Vegeta frowned. "Come where? We just ate breakfast. I told you I must train when we return."

Bulma squirmed a little uncomfortably in her seat. "I need to buy some maternity clothes, and I thought since you did such a good job this morning pointing out this dress, that you could help me pick out something nice." She started the vehicle and looked over at him, a little surprised that he had said nothing in response.

"You want me to purchase clothing for you?" he finally asked incredulously.

"Well, no. I just thought maybe you could offer your opinion is all."

"Forget it," Vegeta responded irritably. "You are perfectly able to select your own clothing, and I already told you that I intend to train today." What he actually wanted to say was 'I have better things to do with my time than waste my time watching you select clothing', but for some reason he held his tongue.

"That's true, but..." Bulma sighed and pulled out into the street. "Never mind. I'll take you home and go by myself."

Her disappointment was evident. Vegeta tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that his training was important and that she'd get over it, but for some reason her displeasure still bothered him. Again he shoved the thought away. These sorts of disquieting thoughts had been occurring more and more often of late, and they were beginning to become irksome to him. She was just a human female, and she would have to learn her place as far as her level of importance to him was concerned. Yes, he'd been far too lenient with her lately; in fact, he was getting soft because of it. Just because the woman was hormonal didn't mean she needed to be clingy. "Good."

She said nothing else the rest of the way home until they pulled up in front of the house. "All right, go train."

Now there was bitterness in her voice. He ignored it and got out of the car, heading straight to the GR. She'd get over it.

Bulma pulled out of the driveway with a small squeal of her tires and drove to the mall. Why didn't he care? It seemed like whenever something had to do with her pregnancy, he wanted nothing to do with it. Did he even care about the baby? He hadn't left her when he found out she was pregnant and had actually seemed to accept the fact that he was the child's father, much better than she had expected him to. So why was he acting like such a jerk? What did he want from her?

* * *

She'd actually found a few decent outfits in a relatively short time and headed back home. The trip, compounded with her anxiety over Vegeta's behavior, had tired her out, and she wanted to rest. It would still be a couple of hours before he would come in demanding lunch, so she figured she might catch a quick nap before then since her mother wasn't home yet to model her clothes for.

Bulma sighed. She was going to look like a walking tent once she got any bigger. She dropped her shopping capsule on the bed and went into the bathroom to relieve herself. So much for enjoying a seldom taken day off. She hiked up her dress and sat down on the toilet, only to cry out in surprise.

"Oh no… oh, no, this is not good…" she whimpered.

Her panties were stained with a red streak.

She pulled them up quickly and let her dress slip back down as she ran out of the bathroom. Grabbing her purse, she looked up Natsue's business number. She picked up her phone and made the call with hands that shook.

"Good morning, West Capital Women's Health," the receptionist answered. "This is Takane."

"Takane, this is Bulma Briefs," Bulma shrieked hysterically. "I'm bleeding and I don't know what to do-"

"Calm down please, Ms. Briefs," Takane interrupted gently. "Now, you said you're bleeding. Is it a lot?"

"I-I don't know," Bulma admitted. "I pulled down my panties to use the toilet and they've got a red streak on them!"

"How far are you?" Takane asked.

"Ten weeks. I'm so scared…"

"Come on in and Dr. Yamamoto will examine you. It'll be all right, Ms. Briefs."

* * *

Her hands still shaking, Bulma knocked on the heavy metal door. Nothing. She knocked again. The flashes of light stopped and the door opened.

Vegeta didn't look very pleased. "What do you want, Woman?" he asked irritably.

"I'm bleeding," she told him, her brow creasing with worry. "I-"

"So get a Band-Aid! For Kami's sake, you interrupted my training for_ that_?" Vegeta rolled his eyes and was about to shut the door when she knocked on it again frantically.

"Vegeta, wait, please!" she pleaded.

Vegeta scowled at her. "What do you want me to do, kiss it and make it feel better?"

"I'm bleeding, Vegeta," she told him, ignoring his sarcasm, "down _here_." She gestured appropriately.

The scowl disappeared as he realized what she meant. "Oh."

Bulma bit at her lip but couldn't keep it from trembling. "I-I called my obstetrician's office and they said to come in," she told him, her voice trembling. "Will you take me? Please?"

The frown reappeared. "I do not want to go to one of those females' physician's offices," he objected, crossing his arms. "A room of bloated females and crying infants is not-"

"Please! I'm too upset to drive and I don't want to go by myself. No one else is home. Don't make me beg you." Bulma began to cry and covered her face with her hands. "I'm _scared_, Vegeta. I don't want to lose the baby."

Vegeta could feel himself weakening. Was this his fault for having her earlier that morning? He hated to see Bulma cry, and that fact bothered him more than the thought of going to the dreaded doctor's office for females. His face softened, although the scowl remained. "Bulma..."

Bulma looked up at him, her blue eyes full of tears. "Vegeta, this is our son," she whispered. Her eyes pleaded with him.

Vegeta let out a long sigh. "All right, Bulma. All right. Give me five minutes to shower and get dressed." He stepped aside and waved his hand to indicate that she should come in.

Her eyes closed in relief for a moment. "Thank you."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he headed for the bathroom. She watched him go and sat down on the bed, shaking, her hand resting protectively on top of her belly. "Please be all right, baby boy," she whispered. "Mama loves you."

* * *

Vegeta pulled on his boots and eyed the sniffling woman sitting on his bed. He did _not_ want to go and she was going to owe him big time for this. "Let's go, Woman."

Bulma nodded and stood up, rubbing at her face with the back of her hand. "Here." She handed him a capsule.

Vegeta stepped out of the GR and shut the door after they were both out. "What's this?"

"It's the Ferrari," she told him. "I thought you liked that car."

"The sooner we get there the sooner I can leave," he grumbled, handing the capsule back to her. "I don't need this." He put his arm around her waist, then paused. She was getting too thick around the middle and was likely to complain- or hurt even worse than she already did- if his arm squashed her belly. Holding in his sigh, he lifted her in his arms and took to the air. "Where is this place?"

"It's in West Capital," she told him, pointing the general direction. "I'll point you in the right direction when we get close." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder.

Vegeta did not particularly want anyone seeing him with a sniffling woman snuggling against him but said nothing. Not only could he sense being so near to him was calming to her, but he knew she would get upset all over again if he scolded her for it. He didn't need that. Her _regular_ mood swings were bad enough.

They flew in silence for a few minutes until they approached the city. "Where now?" Vegeta asked, slowing down.

"It's in the northwest part of the city. Do you remember where that restaurant is that I took you to that has the huge steaks?"

Vegeta couldn't suppress a grin. "How could I forget?" The look on their waitress' face had been priceless when he'd asked for his third steak to come with sautéed mushrooms and onions with gravy, an Antipasto salad with house dressing- _don't _forget the croutons this time- and a loaded baked potato.

Bulma smiled against his chest. "It's not far from there." Unconsciously, she sighed and clutched her belly with one hand. "Baby, please be all right."

She had spoken her plea in barely a whisper and the wind was whistling past them as they flew, but he heard her. It had actually surprised him how excited she had been when she told him of her pregnancy. He had never expected it. Although in the end she hadn't resisted him, it had not been her idea for him to take her on Namek and she obviously hadn't planned to become pregnant to a genocidal alien with an inflated ego. Yet she claimed to love the child already. It was not truly real to him yet and he had no emotional attachment to the child. He could see and touch and feel Bulma; she was real. This brat wasn't.

He was not, however, about to tell her that when he had grasped what she actually meant by 'bleeding', he had felt for the child's ki with his own and discovered that the boy was fine. Realizing that he had automatically done so annoyed him. This brat didn't concern him; he didn't even want it.

Right?

"There's the restaurant, Woman. Where do I go?" Vegeta grumbled. He tried to brush the unwanted thoughts from his head and hated it that the woman provoked such a weak response in him.

This whole situation sucked.

"Two more streets further, and three more east." Bulma's arms tightened around him again. "It's a large brick building four stories high."

"I see it," Vegeta informed her. He descended in front of the building and set her down.

"Thanks again," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek as she slid out of his arms. He grunted his displeasure at the public display of affection. "Oh, cut it out. You aren't melting," she objected. "Come on." She reached for his hand.

Vegeta scowled and pulled away from her. "I am _not_ going in there. It's bad enough that I'm here to begin with."

Bulma's face fell. "I should have known," she snapped. Tears of hurt filled her eyes. "Don't you care in the slightest about this baby? _Our_ baby?" she whispered angrily. "Do you know the rumors and nasty remarks I'm going to get from the press about this? The snide looks and whispers I _already_ get when people think I'm not looking? But I don't let it bother me because I care about this child and I want to be a mother more than anything."

"What the hell do you want from me, Woman?" he hissed.

"I want you to be a real man and accept responsibility for your actions," she hissed back, glad that there weren't many people on the street to witness what could potentially become embarrassing.

His angry expression spoke volumes; he was highly offended by her implication. "I don't appreciate your demeaning comments regarding my masculinity or your attempts to manipulate me, Woman," he snarled. "Did you think that just because I didn't ask to be put in this situation that I wanted harm to come to either you or the brat?"

"I..." Bulma's eyes filled with tears again and she sighed. "I'm sorry. You're right. I just really need your support right now, Vegeta. Please come in with me. You can sit in the waiting room away from everyone else. They'll take me right away. It shouldn't be long." She took his hand in hers; he could feel hers trembling. "Please do this for me, Vegeta."

He said nothing but turned and started walking toward the building. She hurried after him. "Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered. "You have no idea what this means to me." Her lips trembled despite her smile and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He looked over at her. "Stop crying, Woman," he commanded gruffly, but his voice didn't sound irritated.

"I'm trying," Bulma told him. "I'm just so scared for the baby. What if something's seriously wrong?"

Vegeta could see that the woman was genuinely terrified that she would lose the baby, and suspected that she still didn't believe that he cared at all, and that he was only doing this to appease her. He refused to think about whether or not that was true- that he hadn't wanted the child and so it meant nothing to him. "I sense no distress from the child," Vegeta informed her in an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice, attempting to stave off any further crying bouts. "I'm sure he's fine."

The look of happiness she gave him made his stomach twist. _I don't know if I'll ever get used to that. Why does she look at me that way? How can she- _no! _She has no control over me. Emotions are for the weak,_ he reprimanded himself sternly. "Come along, Woman." He put his hand on her shoulder to move her along.

"I'm coming," Bulma told him. Seeing her opportunity, she decided to risk annoying him and stepped a little closer, slipping in front of his arm so that it was behind her back.

Surprised by her boldness, Vegeta opened his mouth to speak when he noticed that her eyes flicked up briefly. _She's waiting for my reaction, as if she expects me to be angry at her. I don't feel like putting up with any more of her sniveling._ The unwanted thoughts raced through his brain. _Why does it even matter?_ he thought irritably, ignoring the niggling little feeling in the back of his mind that perhaps it just might matter to him what Bulma thought and felt. "Crazy woman," he growled, but left his arm where it was.

Bulma couldn't contain her smile when he didn't brush her off. _Maybe I really can have an effect on him! Does he care about me like that? Kami, I wish I knew why I... Damn it, why did I have to fall in love with a man who can't love me in return?_

"What?"

"What, what?"

"You sighed, Woman." Vegeta's eyebrow rose.

"Uhm, nothing," she lied. "Just a lot on my mind, I guess." Her hand unconsciously rested on her belly.

"Hmph..." Vegeta retrieved his arm and pulled open the door, pushing her along through it.

* * *

"All right, Bulma. Let's take a look at you." Natsue sat down at the foot of the examining table Bulma was lying on. "We'll see what's going on here."

Bulma's hands fisted the sheet draped over her tightly. "I'm so nervous, Natsue," she whispered. "I want this baby so much, but his father... he's..."

"Not exactly excited about the prospect of being a father?" Natsue offered.

Bulma snorted and rolled her eyes. "Not exactly."

"He'll get over it," Natsue assured her. "You'd be surprised how many resistant first time fathers-to-be melt like butter when their babies are born. Love at first sight. Okay, cold touch."

Bulma laid her head back down on the pillow. "I hate those things," she grumbled. "I'll bet a man invented bras, pantyhose, high-heeled shoes _and_ the speculum." She scowled. "Oh, and mascara too. They'd never try to coat _their_ eyelashes with a thick black liquid."

Natsue laughed. "You're absolutely right about pantyhose and the speculum," she confirmed, "but believe it or not, I know for a fact that bras and mascara were both invented by a woman. There are varying opinions on the high-heeled shoes, though. A lot of people say Leonardo DaVinci, but they were around long before he was."

"Nerd," Bulma shot back.

Natsue laughed again as she bent down a little more. "I don't see anything to be concerned about right off the bat, and everything feels normal. We'll definitely do an ultrasound, too. You're supposed to have your first one next week anyway." She finished at Bulma's feet and got up. "You can scoot back up now, Bulma." She went over to the sink, peeled off her gloves and washed up.

Bulma slid herself back up the length of the table and repositioned the little pillow underneath her head. She sighed, wishing that Vegeta viewed his own unborn son as important enough to share this moment with her.

"Don't you want to see your baby for the first time?" Natsue asked. "Most women are excited to."

Bulma rolled her head the doctor's way. "Oh, no, it's not that," she objected. "I just wish..." She bit at her lip, fighting back tears.

Natsue came back over to her friend and took her hand. "You wish that he would have come here with you?" she asked softly.

Bulma sniffled, hastily wiping a tear from her cheek. "Believe it or not, I actually got him to bring me. I'm still a little disbelieving, myself." She paused. "No, that's not fair, either. He was raised to believe that all emotions other than anger are a weakness. He's not very comfortable in social situations, and sitting in a waiting room with, quote," she wriggled her fingers, " 'a room of bloated females and crying infants', unquote," she wriggled her fingers again, "isn't exactly his idea of a good time." She looked even more depressed.

"It's only human nature to be nervous about these types of things," Natsue assured her. "Like I said earlier, give him some time and he'll come around."

"Human nature, huh?" Bulma chuckled weakly. "Yeah. Well, that's something I thought I should tell you about, Natsue."

"What's that?"

"Well," Bulma began, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head with her hand in a quite Goku-like fashion, "Vegeta isn't human."

"Oh." Natsue's eyebrow rose. "I see. You said he's here right now?"

Bulma pursed her lips. "He'd better be," she declared.

The doctor's amusement was evident. "What does he look like?"

"He's slightly taller than me, dark, handsome, built like a tank and scowling," Bulma reported in a way that made Natsue wonder if she was being serious. "Oh, and you can't miss the hair. If I could have dragged him in here with me, you'd see what I mean... hey, where are you going? Natsue?_ Natsue?_"

* * *

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama-"

Vegeta eyed the toddler standing nearby with trepidation and a sharply raised eyebrow. He was the only male in the room over the age of two, and there was nowhere to escape to. _Dear Kami, if all brats are like this one I'll strangle him myself. Why didn't I keep the capsule with the Ferrari? At least I could wait outside in it without looking like I'm-_

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama-"

"How can you _stand_ it, woman?" came a tormented lament from three chairs over.

'Mama' paused from her task of rubbing a little perfume sample from the magazine she was reading on her wrists and looked up at the man staring with wide-eyed horror at her son. "Hmm? Oh, you just learn to drown it out after a while. After four of them, I'm an old pro." She let one hand rest on her belly and giggled in a way that reminded him of the blonde Briefs woman.

Vegeta was unaware that his eyes had just gone a size wider as he stared at the enlarged belly containing the fifth spawn of 'Mama'. Noting his expression, she continued to giggle. "Is this your first baby?" she asked. Nervous new daddies were _so_ cute.

"Uh... yes."

Normally Vegeta would have simply blasted everyone in the room without a second thought, but the situation was becoming dangerously personal. This was what was coming his way. This is what he could expect.

This was going to be a living hell.

"Aww..." 'Mama' smiled at him. "I think it's so sweet when husbands come along," she noted. "Mine would have, but he had to work and couldn't get a couple hours off. A likely story."

"I hear you," another woman piped up. "My husband couldn't be bothered to come to my first two ultrasounds, either." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"His wife sure is a lucky woman," a third woman interjected darkly. "Why couldn't mine be more like that?"

"Or even half as handsome," the second woman whispered, sending both of them into fits of giggling.

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He did _not_ want to be here-

"Hey, Mister! Wanna try it?" 'Mama's' little angel held up a sucker he had just pulled from his mouth, which was stained purple from the candy. "It's grape!" The boy beamed up at him. "I like your hair!"

"Uh... thanks."

The door leading to the examining rooms opened and a woman in a white doctor's coat stepped through it. She scanned the room quickly and grinned when her eyes set upon Vegeta. Ah yes. _This_ was the one. Even if the room had been full of husbands, Bulma hadn't been kidding when she said she couldn't have missed him. Wordlessly, she beckoned to him.

Vegeta looked to either side of him. No one else was there. He pointed to himself questioningly. "Me?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, you," she responded, pointing at him to emphasize the 'you'. She beckoned to him again. "And don't say, 'I didn't do it', because oh _boy_ did you do it, Mister." She was rewarded with a smattering of giggles as the wild-haired man's cheeks flushed pink.

Vegeta hesitated. "What the-"

"Hey, Mister! Didja wanna try it?" The sticky fingered, purple faced boy held up the sucker again, hitting Vegeta on the knee with it. "Oopsie." As the boy pulled it off, sticky wet strands of sugary liquid Vegeta could only guess to be the child's saliva stretched between the sucker and Vegeta's previously spotless jeans.

"Mama will get you a new one, precious," 'Mama' said automatically, sniffing at her wrists.

"No!" Vegeta shot up from his chair, still nervously eyeing the purple faced monster, who had climbed up onto the empty seat next to him. This was worse than he could possibly have imagined it. Even being _dead_ was more tolerable than this! He followed the doctor through the door and let out a sigh when it shut.

"Just keep telling yourself, 'It's not my kid, it's not my kid'..." the doctor instructed him. She bowed politely in greeting. "Natsue Yamamoto."

She received a spaced-out grunt in response.

She chuckled. "You poor guy. Not a good first time experience for you. Trust me, they won't all be this bad. Follow me, please." She didn't see the death glare he shot her direction as they walked down the hallway. "Here we are." She knocked on the door before opening it. "Bulma? You still alive in here?"

Bulma had lay back down and raised herself up onto her elbows. "Yes, where did you- Vegeta!" She covered her mouth with one hand.

Natsue shut the door behind them. "Didn't even put up a fight, either," she whispered in Bulma's ear. "Now, Bulma tells me you're not from around here," she sugar coated her statement.

Vegeta's demeanor instantly changed. "I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans," he informed her in an authoritative tone of voice.

Natsue's eyebrow raised and she shot Bulma a very amused look. "So, you got your handsome prince after all," she commented. "Can I borrow those Dragonballs?"

Bulma went ten shades of pink. "Aaugh! Natsue! Can we do this, please? I know you said everything looks okay, but I can't help but worry."

"Sorry, Bulma. I couldn't resist." Natsue turned to Vegeta. "Bulma and I became friends in college. Anyway, I have not heard much about Saiyans." She looked at him from several angles, then shrugged. "I guess not."

Vegeta frowned. Her examinations made him feel like cattle being inspected. "You guess not what?" he demanded.

"I guess physiologically speaking, our two species can't be too much different. After all, you two did manage to make a baby together." She held her chin in one hand, still contemplating him. "Do you know much about inter-species reproduction involving Saiyans?"

The doctor's question took Vegeta by surprise. "No, only that since Saiyan males greatly outnumbered females, some males were known to seek out females of other compatible species while off world in order to satisfy their urges," he mumbled, knowing full well that he himself was, of course, guilty of the allegation. "It was not commonly done at home, as it was generally frowned upon."

"Let me guess. It was unheard of to taint the royal bloodline with alien blood?" Natsue asked, obviously catching on very quickly.

Vegeta shot her another look. "What is your point, Woman?" he growled, quickly losing his patience with this nosy human female.

"Well, seeing as I don't know anyone who has parents of two different species, I wanted to know if any known cases presented problems to the mother," she explained. "So far, from what I can discern by my examination, Bulma looks fine. I'm going to do an ultrasound to confirm it, but I suspect that since this is your first child together, and your first child at all, Bulma, that instead of your body reacting as it typically would due to normal hormonal changes caused by pregnancy, Vegeta's alien DNA is obviously more trying on your body than human DNA would be. It could simply be some stress on your uterus while your body tries to balance everything out. Pregnancy is tough enough on the body under normal circumstances."

"Oh." Bulma looked relieved. "I should ask Chi-Chi if she had any similar problems when she was expecting Gohan."

Natsue froze in place, then let her breath out in an exasperated huff. "You mean Chi-Chi Son? _Duh!_ That would explain a lot," she grumbled. "But I always just thought Goku was a regular guy with big hair since he acts just like-"

"Kakarrot acts nothing like a true Saiyan warrior would," Vegeta interjected snidely. "He is a pathetic clown and a waste of Saiyan blood."

"I would like to get a blood sample from you, Vegeta," Natsue continued, as if the entire interlude in the conversation had never occurred. "I'll have one of the nurses draw it when we're done here. Then I can do some research to determine if there is anything else I should be concerned about."

"But-"

"So, are you ready to see your baby on the big screen for the first time, kids?" Natsue asked brightly, not letting Vegeta get in another word edgewise. "We should be able to get some nice pictures at ten weeks."

Bulma's face brightened. "Yes! Oooh, I want to see him!"

"Hmph." Vegeta turned away. "Just hurry up so I can get back to my training."

Natsue noted the excited expression on Bulma's face instantly vanish, replaced by one of sadness and hurt, and walked over to him. "I have a mind to thump you a good one right upside your head," she hissed, shaking an accusing finger at him. "Stand here and sulk if you must, but quit raining on her parade. Either that, or you can go back in the waiting room and play with little Chomei out there. He seemed to like you."

Vegeta only crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

"Let's get started, Bulma, shall we?" Natsue asked softly, patting Bulma's knee as she passed by.

Bulma nodded. She loved Natsue, who always managed to turn the tide of bad emotions another direction. "Okay."

"Before I start, have you ever had an ultrasound before?" Natsue asked, pulling on a new pair of gloves.

"No." Bulma shook her head. "Is it going to take a long time? I _really_ have to go to the bathroom."

Natsue grinned. "Good. Then I won't have to make you drink anything to enlarge your bladder. Okay, first I'm going to put some of this gel on your belly," she explained, parting Bulma's gown in the middle to expose her abdomen. "It'll feel warm."

"Okay- oh. That is warm," Bulma noted.

"Mmm-hmm." Natsue put a device that looked like a small paint roller on Bulma's belly. "This is a probe that sends sound waves through your skin and muscles. It creates images when the sound waves are reflected back to a scanner that measures them," she explained, more for Vegeta's benefit than Bulma's, if he was even bothering to listen. She rubbed the probe around. "I contemplated doing a transvaginal scan, but we'll start with this first."

"Oh, _rats_," Bulma muttered sarcastically, making a face. "Are you sure? But it sounds like such fun." A mischievous grin spread on her face and she shot a heated look at the brooding man standing several feet away at the other side of the small room. "As if I need to come here for _that_ thing if I want something shoved-"

"Okay!" Natsue interrupted. "Here we are. Can you tell what we're looking at?"

Bulma frowned as she contemplated the picture, which to her seemed little more than fuzzy patches of black, white, and shades of gray. "No, I... wait! Is that... that's a leg, isn't it? On the lower left?"

Natsue smiled and nodded down at her patient. "You are correct. That's your son's left leg." She moved the probe around some more. "You're sure it's a boy? It's too soon to tell here."

Bulma nodded. "Vegeta says it is."

"You can tell?" Natsue asked him curiously. "How?"

Vegeta shrugged. "The brat's ki is male." He turned his attention back to the charts and posters hanging on the walls showing pictures of pregnant females and their unborn brats in various stages of gestation.

"So what else are we looking at?" Bulma urged.

Natsue moved the pointer of her mouse along the screen as she spoke. "Here's the leg again, then we'll follow up the spine. And an arm... the head. But..." She pressed a button on her computer, freezing the image, and waved the pointer around a particular spot. "I'm still a little stumped here."

Bulma gasped. "Vegeta, come see this!"

"Woman, I do not want to look at your underdeveloped brat," Vegeta growled stubbornly.

"Shut up, Vegeta. Quit being an ass and come look at this. You'll want to see it, trust me," Bulma insisted.

"What's so important that I'll want to see it?" Vegeta grudgingly came over to look at the monitor. _If I don't look at it, she'll _never_ shut up..._

"Here." Natsue slipped Bulma's hand over the mouse. "Go ahead and show him. Again, I admit I'm stumped. Must be a Saiyan thing. I didn't treat Chi-Chi or deliver her son, so I don't know."

"You're right, it's a Saiyan thing all right," Bulma confirmed, indicating various parts of the screen. "See, Veg, you can't see the baby's head from this shot, but here's an arm, this is the spine, a leg, and unless your son decided to grow a third leg out of his butt..." She looked up at him to gauge his reaction.

Vegeta had been about to complain about her usage of a nickname he found irritating when he realized what Bulma was showing him. "A tail." His face had taken on an unreadable expression. "He has a tail."

Bulma nodded. _Not 'brat', or 'it'. He._ "It sure looks like it."

Vegeta's chin raised slightly. "Good."

Noting the obvious pride in Vegeta's reaction, Natsue released the screen and continued rubbing the probe. "Let's just watch for a moment," she suggested.

"Oh!" Bulma exclaimed. "Is he..."

"Sucking his thumb? Yes, indeed." Natsue continued to wriggle the probe.

"That's just so precious," Bulma breathed. "Okay, he's not sucking his thumb anymore, he's..."

"Scowling," both women finished before bursting into peals of laughter.

"I wonder where he got that from?" Bulma teased.

Natsue chuckled. "We'll never know. So, about the ten weeks... are you sure about the dates you gave me? The embryo is bigger than ten weeks typically is, even for males."

Bulma blushed. "Well, I can tell you exactly when," she admitted, glancing Vegeta's direction. "He's not paying any attention, are you Vegeta?"

Lost in thought, Vegeta turned his head Bulma's direction. "Hm?" He had stepped away from the women again, unwilling to seem interested and equally unwilling to admit that he was. The brat had a tail. He had almost breathed a sigh of relief. His son had a tail!

"I asked Bulma if she was sure about the dates she gave me, since the baby seems bigger than ten weeks gestation." Natsue looked at him pointedly. She would have bet her apartment that she saw a faint tinge of red spread across the Saiyan's cheeks as Vegeta opened his mouth, then shut it.

"Trust the woman," was all he said.

Natsue nodded. "The development is right on for ten weeks, anyway. I'm going to keep a close eye on her. It's going to be a bigger than average baby," she informed him.

He didn't respond, but merely looked at her.

"Average for boys is about eight to nine pounds," she explained. "Bulma, I'd definitely put you in the double digits category."

Bulma let out a strangled noise and rested her head back down. "Great. How am I going to get a baby the size of a rhinoceros out when I wear size two jeans?" she moaned.

"Easy. C-section," Natsue responded, completely unfazed. "I'll just keep careful track of your progress and when the time is right, we'll welcome your little man into the world." She turned back to Vegeta. "You don't happen to know what the typical gestation period for Saiyans is, do you?"

Vegeta frowned. "No, I do not, since Saiyan females put their unborn brats into gestation cylinders when they became pregnant," he admitted. "They did, however, remain there for the better part of a standard year."

"That works for me. Thanks." Natsue set down her equipment and peeled off her gloves, then handed Bulma a towel. "Here, you can use this to clean yourself up when I leave. Okay, here are my assessments and recommendations. Since physically you are in excellent health, I strongly believe that the bleeding is being caused by the dramatic hormonal imbalance you are currently experiencing, Bulma," she began, sitting down on her stool. "I'll prescribe you a supplement to use for a couple months in addition to your prenatal vitamins after I take a look at blood work for both you and Prince Charming here. There are a couple I have in mind that should do the trick. Otherwise your baby looks perfectly strong and healthy."

"He's okay... my baby's okay..." Bulma looked relieved. "Just a supplement? That's it? Thank Kami," she said, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

"Well..." This time both parents looked at the doctor. "I actually have two _orders_ to give you, as well."

"Okay..." Bulma looked at her friend skeptically. "Go ahead."

"Remember that do and don't eat list I gave you? Anything on it that says that you should limit, I want you to avoid like the plague until I tell you otherwise, got it?"

"Got it," Bulma responded. "What else?"

"Whoa, hold your horses there, missy. That includes triple choc-"

The good doctor was cut off by Bulma's horrified yelp. _"No triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream?" _she wailed.

"And precisely how soon would you like to be back in here for your next unscheduled appointment, dear?" Natsue asked coolly, watching Bulma's scowl dissolve into a resigned purse of the lips. "Vegeta, I hereby dub thee my official hand slapper," she declared, tapping her pen on each of the Saiyan's shoulders, "meaning that if you see her committing a no-no, even inadvertently, you get to take it away and eat it yourself."

Vegeta had been about to inform the doctor that he wasn't this woman's caretaker when the words 'take it away and eat it yourself' changed his mind. A smile crept over his face. Perhaps this wouldn't be quite as bad as he'd thought.

"Oh, thanks a lot, Natsue!" Bulma complained, glaring at the smirking Saiyan. "It's not as if he needed any encouragement to eat the entire contents of the fridge in one sitting, now he gets to eat my ice cream, too."

"For now, I'm saying three weeks, then we'll see how you're doing," Natsue decided, scribbling some notes down on a page in Bulma's medical file. "I'll get you a revised list, okay? Secondly, during those three weeks, I _order_ you to complete bed rest. Unless you are taking care of personal hygiene, I want you in bed, understood? Capsule Corp will be waiting for you," she continued, seeing Bulma about to interrupt and bring work up herself. "You do have a telephone and a personal assistant who can drop by with things for your approval, do you not?"

"Yes, of course, but-"

"No more than two hours on any given day," Natsue said firmly. "If you do, I'll have my hand slapper here eat triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in front of you while you tell him what was so urgent that it was more important than your unborn son's health."

"Can I have whipped cream and a cherry?" Vegeta asked in a manner completely devoid of innocence.

Bulma gaped at him.

"Of _course_ you should," Natsue agreed. "You do realize, however, that should you bravely accept the assignment of hand slapper, you can't just tease her with her favorite restricted foods for no reason. Oh, and don't forget, you'll also be making a lot of midnight runs for weird foods to satisfy her cravings."

"What? That's not worth it," the disgruntled Saiyan objected. "Let her eat the damn ice cream, then."

"Oh, honey, you misunderstand me," Natsue began. "Surely you realize-"

"I'm _not_ your 'honey'-"

"-that you'll be doing that, anyway. So you might as well see the job of hand slapper as a perk, but not one to be abused. _That_ was my point."

"Give me a good reason why I would go out in the middle of the night for weird food," Vegeta demanded.

"Because it's easier to deal with than the side effects of the cravings," Natsue assured him. "Besides, we both know what kind of a sweet young lady Bulma can be when she's upset about something."

Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes; nothing else needed to be said.

"Hey!"

"Wouldn't you rather nip that in the bud by shutting her up?"

"I suppose you do have a point, Woman."

_"Hey!"_

"All right, we have dietary restrictions and bed rest," Natsue reiterated. "There's one more thing-"

"Oh, please don't let her say what I think she's going to," Bulma muttered.

"I want you to abstain for two months-"

"Aaaugh! I knew it! How am I supposed to do that with _him_ around? I mean, for Kami's sake _look_ at him!" Bulma demanded, gesturing wildly with her hands at his muscular physique. "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't know much about Saiyans, were you? How on Earth do you expect _that_ to happen?"

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. Since Bulma had become rather ravenous between the sheets lately, her reaction made it pretty clear what the doctor was talking about, but he had to be certain. "Now, when you say 'abstain', you mean-"

"No sex," the doctor said bluntly.

"_What?_ Why the hell not?" Vegeta wailed, like a kid told he could look at a dish of candy all he wanted but not to expect to eat any of it. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I think you'll manage to survive just fine," Natsue said dryly. "Incidentally, I neglected to ask you when the last time you two were intimate was." She was met with silence from both brooding parents. "Well?"

"Who knows?" Vegeta muttered grumpily. _No sex? I can't screw my own woman? What the hell?_ "What time is it?"

Natsue's jaw momentarily dropped in surprise before she caught herself when she noticed Bulma going a lovely shade of pink. "I see. Evidently, Bulma being pregnant doesn't turn you off, then."

"Nothing turns Vegeta off," Bulma retorted, the blush deepening. "If anything, he's gotten even friskier in the past couple of weeks."

"Well, it's not _my_ fault that your body and scent changed," Vegeta retorted defensively. "It's even more..." He trailed off, unwilling to admit that while he had always appreciated her body, lately he found her downright alluring. It was part of the reason he had been spending long stretches of time in the GR; otherwise, if he found himself distracted by the temptation of his luscious mate's body, he might be tempted not to resume his training in favor of jumping into bed with her.

"I never said you two couldn't have your fun, Vegeta, especially you. As long as you keep out of Bulma's shorts, that is. No intercourse, no orgasms," Natsue said firmly.

"Oh, this is really fair. I can't have any fun when _he's_ the one who got me pregnant to begin with. Two months!" Bulma complained bitterly. "Well, it's for my baby's well being. I guess it could be a lot worse, so I can't complain."

"Thank you for complying with my restrictions, Bulma," Natsue said softly. "Doctor's orders are never meant to be cruel. They're always for a reason. You know that. When you don't feel like following them, just think about your little boy and how precious he'll be. Trust me, the look I see on a new mother's face after 27 hours of labor when she holds her baby for the first time tells me that all of her efforts were worth it, without even having to ask." She smiled. "You two are going to have an absolutely beautiful child, there's no doubt about that."

Bulma smiled, almost shyly. "Thanks, Natsue," she whispered.

"You're welcome. Call me if you have any concerns, if the bleeding doesn't stop by tomorrow or if it gets worse, all right? I'll call in the nurse to draw your blood, then you can get dressed and sit in the waiting room while I finish up with daddy here. Vegeta, please come with me," Natsue requested, shoving a few items in her jacket and exiting the room.

"What for?" Vegeta asked accusingly.

"I've decided to take your blood myself," she told him, shutting the door behind him and going across the hallway to another room. "This is my private office. I'd like to have a word with you, if I may. Okichi?" she called to a nearby nurse. "Could you please draw a vial of blood from Bulma Briefs in room three? Oh, and tell her we're done so she can use the bathroom now. Thank you!" Natsue opened the door to her office and gestured for Vegeta to come inside.

Vegeta sighed and went into the office. "Fine." _I've already tolerated enough from this woman as it is._

"Have a seat, please," she offered, shutting the door.

He sat in one of the empty seats in front of the large desk at the far end of the office. "What is it?"

Natsue reached into her pocket and pulled out a glove, snapping it on, then proceeded to secure a rubber strip around one bicep. "Look, it's evident to me that you're far from intellectually challenged, so I'm not going to insult you by beating around the bush. You _are_, however, a very stubborn, proud man," she noted, tearing open an alcohol swab and rubbing it on the inside of his elbow. She felt for his vein with her fingertips. "Could you open and shut your hand for me a few times, then make a fist, please?"

Vegeta decided to just do as she asked. The sooner this was over with, the sooner he could leave this place.

"Thanks." She felt for the vein again. "You've got deep veins," she commented, flicking her finger against the spot a couple of times before feeling again. "There you are, you pesky vein," she muttered, wiping the spot again and pulling the safety cap off of the needle. She paused. "You're not nervous about needles, are you?"

Vegeta snorted. "_Kakarrot_ is afraid of needles. I am a warrior. I have led many skirmishes and have had swords thrust through my belly and emerge from my back. No, I am not afraid of a mere needle, Woman."

"No, I guess you wouldn't be," she murmured, managing to hold back her stunned reaction. "I always warn my patients unless they don't want to know. Just a little poke..." She pushed the needle into his vein in one smooth motion and started the draw. "My goodness, you've got a gusher there," she noted, reaching up to release the band from his arm. "You can open your hand now."

Vegeta watched as his blood rushed into the little tube. "What do you hope to determine from your testing?" he asked as she pulled off the tube and stuck a new one on.

"I have to admit that I am fascinated and excited by the prospect of treating a patient expecting a child with a father of another species. I really appreciate your cooperation with this," she told him. "Besides, since I will be watching Bulma's pregnancy closely, any help I can get by contrasting the differences brought about by your DNA in comparison to a human man's DNA will greatly help me determine whether I can expect something out of the ordinary to be a normal difference or if it's something I need to be concerned about." She put a piece of gauze on the spot and withdrew the needle, then put a Band-Aid on it.

Vegeta digested this. "I see."

"I'll send Bulma a copy of the test results," Natsue offered. "I'm sure she'll be interested in my findings."

"Hn." Something odd caught Vegeta's eye, and he looked down at his arm. "What the hell is this?" he asked with a mild frown, eyeing the picture on the bandage.

"Oh, that's Scooby Doo," she informed him, an amused look on her face. "Sorry. We treat small children who need special attention here too, and use them when the kids get their blood drawn. They think they're cute, so it takes away some of the scariness of being poked with a needle." She took the vials and labeled them. "Just be glad you didn't get Powerpuff Girls."

Just the name was enough to make him want to shudder. "Hmph. Powerpuff Girls." Vegeta spied the candy dish on her desk. "Are those for good little boys and girls who don't cry when they see a needle?" he asked sarcastically. "If that's the case, Kakarrot will _never_ get one."

Natsue laughed. After that and the whipped cream and cherry comment, it seemed that perhaps this one _did_ have a sense of humor. "If that's your way of saying you were a good boy and want a sucker, help yourself. I prefer the red Tootsie Pops myself."

"Hmm. That wasn't my intent, but I don't mind if I do." Vegeta leaned forward to examine the dish's contents and went with her recommendation of the Tootsie Pop, only a blue one instead.

"Look, Bulma didn't come out and say it, but I can tell that she's very distressed about this situation because while she is tremendously excited about becoming a mother, she believes that you are completely disinterested and detached and that you could care less about the outcome of her visit today, and most of all that you want absolutely nothing to do with this child."

Vegeta leaned forward in his seat. "Look, Woman-"

"Oh, no, I'm not done yet. You'll get your turn when I'm through. And these are my words, not hers," she told him, holding up a hand to quiet whatever else he was about to say. "What must make it even worse for her is that it's obvious to me that she's _very_ much in love with you," she continued, noting his startled reaction. "Surprised? Why? She obviously sees something about you that fills a need she has, something that the rest of us may not recognize the way she does. If you didn't care about her, not only would you not be in my office right now giving me your blood and listening to me talk even though you don't feel like being here, but you would have told her to go call a cab or get one of her employees to drive her, so don't even start with any baloney about her meaning nothing to you, even if that's what your behavior _intends_ to indicate."

Vegeta scowled at her. She had him on that one, even though he would never admit it, either to her or anyone else for that matter.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Don't say anything right now. Just go home and think about what I've told you. Bulma isn't expecting and doesn't want any forced fake declarations of undying love from you. She isn't expecting you to stop whatever your training is that you would have otherwise been doing right now. She isn't expecting you to be anything you're not. She just wants you to _be_, that's all. I can tell that she couldn't possibly want anything more than she wants your acceptance of this child as his father, not just someone who unintentionally impregnated her and regrets it down to his toes. I've seen it so many times that it makes _me_ want to cry for these lonely women. All she wants is your support. Believe it or not, your just sticking around for her would mean more to her than her parents' or her friends', or her doctor's support. Just take her home and do stupid little things for her now and then, whether or not she expects them. Listen to her if she's sad or lonely. Give her a hug, hold her hand, tell her she's beautiful, because she _is_, inside and out, and I know you know it." Natsue sighed and steepled her fingers, tapping the fingertips together. "Just think about it, okay? Seriously, Bulma _doesn't_ want anything you're not capable of offering. She doesn't want a personal servant or a whipping boy that she can mold into a so-called perfect man. If you weren't perfect the way you are, she wouldn't have picked you, would she? Just tone down the tough guy thing a little. There's no shame in showing her that you care."

Vegeta sat there, stunned. At first he was angry that this woman, who didn't know him or anything about him, would dare to lecture _him_, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, but she had indisputably hit the nail on the head far too many times and he simply didn't know what to say. He just shook his head and got up from his seat.

"You think I'm full of it and just unloaded a crock of it on you, hmm? Try _one_ thing I suggested. Just one, and see how she takes it. Isn't giving just the tiniest bit of yourself worth seeing the happiness shine in her eyes?"

Again, Vegeta was forced to admit that she was right. He _had_ realized on his own that making even tiny concessions for his woman pleased her greatly. "I- I don't know what you're talking about," he growled, regaining your composure. This woman was starting to get under his skin. She was too stinking perceptive of such a private individual like him, someone she didn't even know.

Natsue shook her head sadly. "Prince Vegeta," she began respectfully, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do. What I am trying to do is to show you that you have a choice. Yes, a choice, one that only you can make or even implement. A choice that will affect her life, infinitely more than you know. Or maybe you _do_ know and it freaks you out to even think about it. I wouldn't do this for just anyone, in fact, you're the first. I love Bulma like my own sister, and I don't want to see her unhappy when potential happiness is so close by for not only her, but for you as well. Please think about it. If you decide that I'm full of it and you want me to say nothing more, I'll respect your wishes. On the other hand, if you want to ask me anything and get my honest opinion, I'll give it to you. Here. Please take this," she held out her business card, her eyes pleading with him to accept it. "Don't tell Bulma I said anything to you about her. Just tell her I asked you to give her this. Hold on..." He watched as she typed something on her computer, popped a small device the size of a stick of chewing gum into a hole on the computer, and pulled it out after a moment's pause. "Here. This is a copy of Bulma's ultrasound pictures that she can show her parents and her friends. Stuff like this is important to moms-to-be, even if it seems silly to want pictures of a blobby looking thing with a disproportionally huge head and stubby little limbs." She handed it to him, along with the paper from Bulma's file that she'd made some notes on. "Thanks. There's a new list for her, too."

Vegeta gave her a little nod of acknowledgement before turning to leave.

"Oh, Vegeta? By the way, I agree with you. That boy Chomei is an utter brat and if it were up to me I'd spank his butt faster than you could blink," Natsue declared with a smirk. "If you're worried about ending up with a brat, well, don't. Since dear Chomei is still with us, I can't see you being cruel to your own child, but you wouldn't tolerate your son being a brat either. Another choice you have." She gave him a genuine smile and stood up, offering him her hand. "Thanks for coming today. It meant _so_ much to Bulma."

He hesitated, then accepted her hand and shook it briefly. "Sure."

"Well, I look forward to seeing you next visit," she told him. "Think about it, that's all I ask. For Bulma. Have a good afternoon, Vegeta."

He paused and gave her another nod before letting himself out. "Good afternoon."

Natsue sighed deeply and sank back into her chair. Couldn't this man see what he _had?_ "Oh, Bulma, I hope for the best for you," she whispered. "For all three of you."

* * *

Vegeta opened the door to the waiting room and looked around. Bulma was nowhere to be seen.

"Sir, are you Vegeta?" the receptionist asked him.

Vegeta pulled the sucker he'd unwrapped in the hallway out of his mouth, slightly embarrassed to be caught doing something so childish. "Yes," he confirmed. "I'm looking for Bulma Briefs."

The woman nodded. "She said she felt hungry and went to find something to eat. She said if she finished before you came out, she'd come back, but otherwise she'd be outside the building."

"Thanks," he mumbled. _Why am I being polite to these stupid humans?_

"You're welcome, sir. Have a nice afternoon." The receptionist went back to what she had been doing.

"Bye, Mister!"

Vegeta felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Chomei. _He's still here?_ A malicious little smirk covered his face and he turned to face the obnoxious boy. He stuck out his now blue tongue and pulled down his lower eyelid with one finger before sticking the sucker back in his mouth and heading for the door.

"Mama, that man sticked his tongue out at me!" was the last thing he heard before the door shut.

He entered the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. "Stupid brat," he muttered, chuckling as he recalled the boy's shocked expression that a grown-up had stuck out his tongue at him and insulted him.

As he left the elevator, he noticed Bulma outside on a bench, licking away at an ice cream cone. He exited the building and sat down beside her. "Tsk, tsk. Am I obligated to take that away and eat it myself already?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Nope. It's French vanilla, though, and it's too rich for my taste. If I'm going to eat rich ice cream, chocolate is the only way to go. If you want it you can have it," she offered.

"Where's the fun if I can't take it away from you?" Vegeta asked. He shrugged and took the cone anyway.

"Vegeta, your tongue is _blue_," Bulma informed him.

"Oh, right. According to you humans I _am_ an alien, remember?" Vegeta polished off the rest of the cone in two bites before sticking the sucker back into his mouth.

Bulma almost gaped at him. "You're eating a sucker?" She giggled. "Well, that's certainly a sight I ever expected to see."

"Evidently I was a good boy." Vegeta bit the last of the candy off of the stick and casually tossed it into a nearby pot of flowers.

"Vegeta," Bulma chastised him. "That's not being a very good boy, you know."

He pretended not to hear. "Come on, let's go home, Woman," he told her, taking her by the arm and standing her on her feet. "I'm hungry and I want my lunch."

Bulma suddenly looked very tired. "Vegeta, I'm really not up to cooking right now. Let's just grab something and take it home to eat. Then, I promise not to make a fuss about going to bed."

"I guess so," he agreed. "Where else is there to eat around here besides the steak place?"

"Let's see... there's Italian, Thai, Eastern junk food, yuck! Of course, French fries _do_ sound a little appealing right now. Mexican, Chinese-"

"Done," Vegeta decided. "I want some egg rolls. Where is this place?"

* * *

"Thanks, Ms. Briefs. I put some extra plum sauce in there for you." The waiter handed Bulma a capsule. "Have a great afternoon!"

"Thank you," Bulma told the young man, waving as she and Vegeta left. She sighed. "I can't believe how tired I am all of a sudden," she commented. "I feel like someone pulled my plug or something."

Vegeta looked around and, not seeing enough people to make an unwanted show of it, picked Bulma up and rocketed into the air.

"Oooh," Bulma moaned, holding her stomach and momentarily going cross-eyed.

"You're not going to puke all over me, are you?" Vegeta asked suspiciously.

"I think it was just the sudden change in altitude," Bulma decided. "But at least I have plenty of fresh air. I'm just going to close my eyes and rest until we get home." She slid her arms around him again and rested her head against his shoulder. "Mmmm... you smell good," she whispered, snuggling closer.

Vegeta snuck a look at her. She looked pretty content. "Should I slow down or get back as soon as possible?"

"I'm feeling a little better now and actually enjoying the ride. You can take a nice, slow pace." She smiled against his chest. Vegeta seemed to have lightened up a little and her baby was fine. Maybe this would be a passable day, after all.

* * *

"Thank you for taking me today, Vegeta," Bulma said quietly as they entered the kitchen. "I know you didn't want to go and I really appreciate it." She put her purse down on the counter and got out the capsule containing their lunch.

Vegeta shrugged. "You just would have complained all day if I hadn't taken you. It was easier to put up with and I got lunch out of the deal."

Her face fell as she heard his cruel words and her eyes filled with tears, despite her extreme effort not to let him see her cry again. She turned away from him. "Vegeta, I know you don't want this baby or anything to do with him, but the least you could do is try not to be so hurtful about it."

He took her arm and turned her around to face him. "I suppose I phrased that poorly," he admitted, although part of him felt that way; the other part was battling with what Natsue told him in her office.

As much as Vegeta kept telling himself that what Bulma thought and that her emotions toward him and the child in her womb that he had fathered didn't affect him in the least, deep inside he knew that was a lie, and that knowledge infuriated him. He honestly didn't know how he felt about the situation.

"Really? You don't say," Bulma clipped out, unable to hold in her tears and unwilling to look at him lest he say something else hurtful or mock her emotions. "Then what the hell _do_ you mean? Do you honestly give a rat's backside about our son or me, or anything?"

"Damn it, Bulma, I don't know..." Vegeta let go of her arm and ran his hand over his face tiredly. "I honestly don't know what to think or how to feel about this," he told her in a much milder voice, fighting the helpless feeling knotting in the pit of his belly. "I- I'm not used to this. I didn't ask for it and never expected it after my planet and my people were destroyed. And now, all of a sudden I'm thrust into..." He let out an exasperated sigh. "I just don't know, and you keep pushing and pushing at me for the answer _you_ want to hear. I won't lie to you, Bulma, and say I'm ecstatic about the brat or that I detest this whole father thing. I can't and won't promise you anything."

Bulma looked up at him with eyes that now displayed a glimmer of a different emotion- _hope_. "I- I'm sorry, Vegeta. I wasn't intending to be pushy. It's just that, well, it eats away at me not knowing how you feel about any aspect of my pregnancy." She dropped his gaze and looked down at his shirt. "It would almost be easier if you told me that you didn't want... that you hated this baby."

Vegeta tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Bulma, I never said I hated the brat, did I?" he objected. "Now stop crying so we can eat, then you're going to bed."

Bulma was unsure of whether he said this in order to be commandeering or if it was because he actually _did_ care, but at the moment it didn't really matter. "Okay," she whispered. "Just hold me for a minute first." Her blue eyes gazed into his, imploring him to grant her request.

Vegeta resigned himself to the fact that if he denied her simple request, it would crush her like a delicate flower, like the fragile porcelain doll she'd been since the pregnancy had begun to take its toll on her weak body.

_...it's obvious to me that she's _very_ much in love with you... Just take her home and do stupid little things for her now and then, whether or not she expects them. Listen to her if she's sad or lonely. Give her a hug, hold her hand, tell her she's beautiful, because she _is_, inside and out, and I know you know it..._

He held in his sigh and pulled the woman before him gently against his body, enclosing her small frame in his arms.

Her body began to tremble and he could feel her tears on his chest. "What now, Woman?"

"This is another good cry, Vegeta," she whispered. "I can't help but cry when you're so wonderful like this." She reached up to caress the side of his cheek with her hand, giving him a shaky smile and a look of such adoration that it took him by surprise. "I think I... I... _Oh,_ Vegeta..." She pulled him down to her to give him a warm, passionate kiss.

He hadn't been expecting that and started a little, but found himself tightening his arms around her and responding to her kiss. She moaned against his lips and slid her arms around him.

The kiss grew more heated, and she reluctantly pulled away when she felt his body responding. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she told him sincerely. "Kami knows I want to, and I wouldn't hesitate if I could, but I just can't risk it." She rested her head against his chest.

His voice broke the silence. "You really want this brat, don't you?"

She nodded and looked up at him. "More than anything. You know how excited I was when I found out that I was pregnant."

He pursed his lips. "Even though it's my brat?"

Bulma blinked. "Vegeta, yes! Why would you ask such a thing?" She unwrapped her arms from around him and grasped his hands. "I asked you to live here, I took you into my bed. I was so happy when you wanted me for your mate." Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. "Do you really think I would have willingly allowed any of that, or anything that's happened between us if I didn't..." She dropped her eyes, blushing.

"Didn't what?" he prompted, again recalling Natsue's words to him earlier.

"Vegeta, I..." Bulma bit her lip, afraid of his response, but equally worried that he would become irritated if she continued to stall.

He wasn't sure why he was pushing the woman the way he was. Perhaps it was to see if there actually was any truth to the doctor's ramblings earlier. "What, Bulma?"

She met his gaze with hers; her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I love you," she whispered, confirming his suspicions. The doctor's assessment had been correct.

Vegeta did not miss the hint of fear in her voice. So, she _was_ afraid to tell him, afraid that his response would not be a favorable one. His expression didn't change. "Why?"

Bulma blinked, startled. This was hardly what she'd expected. "Wh- what do you mean, why?" she stammered.

"I do not claim to know what this 'love' is of which you like to speak so often, but I do grasp the general connotation, that of affection. Correct?"

Bulma nodded. "Yes. But, it's more than simply affection, and there are different kinds of love. I love my parents and this baby," she explained, resting her hands on her slightly swollen belly, "but that's a different kind of love than that I have for my friends."

"Like the women's physician?" Vegeta asked. He _had_ been a little weirded out when Natsue had said she loved Bulma.

"Yes, like Natsue. She's a dear friend of mine and I care about her very much." Bulma took one of Vegeta's hands in hers. "But, the way I feel about you is completely different. Romantic love between a man and a woman involves more than affection. It's also devotion, desire, passion, loyalty. It's wanting to be with and cherish only that person, and no one else. Love can hurt so badly, yet feel so wonderful at the same time."

As idiotic as her last comment seemed, it _would_ explain why the woman continued to desire him, even after he'd said something hurtful. "Hmm. This brings me back to my original question. Why?"

Bulma shook her head. "Vegeta, if you're asking me why I love you, I can't really answer that. You can't decide who you're going to love. It just happens. You just _know_ that person is the one, somehow." A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

"I have ravaged worlds and exterminated entire races without remorse, and you want to cherish me?" Vegeta asked skeptically.

She gave him a little smile. "I see a man who has been neglected the love and attention he deserves, and I feel a strong desire to be the one to show you that it doesn't have to be that way," she said softly. "I can see that deep down you're a good man with good qualities," she continued, shushing him with a gentle finger upon his lips when he opened his mouth to contradict her, "but you were raised in such a deplorable way that you were forced to suppress those good qualities, and to do things contrary to them. It's normal and natural to love and be loved, and there's no shame in wanting that, Vegeta. I want to help you understand that, and feel that."

Vegeta pursed his lips into a crooked frown. "Woman, I have no declarations of this love and devotion to give to you," he told her matter-of-factly. "The only thing I can assure you of is that you will be bitterly disappointed if that is what you are looking for."

Bulma refused to be deterred. "Vegeta, I'm not _looking _for any declarations of love and devotion from you," she told him softly, further echoing Natsue's earlier assessment. "Just let me take care of you and our son the best I can. That's all." She couldn't help but caress the side of his cheek.

She could tell that he was reaching the ending point of his patience before he became angry at having his flaws pointed out when he pulled away uncomfortably and let out his breath. "I do not require love, Woman. Do not delude yourself into believing that you can change me, either," he told her coldly. "Love is a meaningless emotion to me."

"Then why have you stayed here when you feel you have nothing to gain from being here?" Bulma asked softly, deciding to take a chance that she might further anger him. "Why did you do this?" She placed his hand on her neck so he could feel the scar he'd left when he'd claimed her, then ran her finger along the scar on his neck, inwardly pleased when he closed his eyes and shuddered at her touch. "You told me that you wanted me, and that you intended to make me yours and only yours. I agreed to that, because it's what I want, too," she whispered. "Maybe Saiyans weren't as devoid of emotion as you were lead to believe."

He opened his eyes and scowled at her. She had stepped on his toes, that much was apparent. "Woman-"

Before he could react otherwise, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. "I'm not asking for anything other than for you to let me love you," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck. "I can't help it. All I want is you, here beside me." She kissed him, longer this time, pleased once more when his arms slowly closed around her and he returned her kiss.

She sighed contentedly and gave him another one of those looks of utter adoration that still rattled him when they parted. "Lunch can wait a little longer," she informed him, letting her fingertips tickle their way down his chest.

He cursed himself for the millionth time when he was unable to suppress a second shudder. "W-woman... What are you-"

"Shhh. I'm loving you."

* * *

"Bulma, we're home!" Mrs. Briefs called out as they entered the house.

"In the kitchen, Mom!" Bulma called back.

Vegeta sighed. "So much for a peaceful meal," he grumbled, polishing off an egg roll.

Bulma nudged Vegeta's leg with her toe. "Hey, you. Mom's always been nothing but nice to you."

"Yes, _too_ nice." Vegeta tossed down his chopsticks and picked up his soup bowl.

Bulma picked at her food. "You want the rest of my moo goo gai pan?"

"Mmm-hmm," he mumbled from behind the bowl.

Mrs. Briefs breezed into the kitchen. "Hello Bulma, Vegeta," she said cheerily. "My, it smells wonderful in here."

"There's plenty left over if you and Daddy are hungry, Mom," Bulma offered.

"Just don't eat my egg rolls," Vegeta growled.

Mrs. Briefs laughed merrily. "Oh, Vegeta! You're so funny." She patted his shoulder as she approached the table. "So, what's left? If it's something Shatsu likes, I'll bring him a plate."

"Straight to the lab?"

"Yes, straight to the lab." Mrs. Briefs sighed, clucking sadly. "He works too hard, your father."

"Vegeta, did you finish off the chop suey?" Bulma asked. "I know Daddy likes that."

Vegeta poked at the flap of the container with his chopsticks. "No, there's a little left."

Bulma frowned. "Veg, that's gross."

"Hmph."

"That will do just fine. Thank you, Vegeta." Mrs. Briefs took the container and put it and a bowl of rice on a tray. "What did you have, Bulma?"

"Uhm, some hoi sin kow, moo goo gai pan, and wonton soup," Bulma responded. She looked over at Vegeta out of the corner of her eye to see him raise his soup bowl back up to his mouth. "Oh yeah. And some young guy fun," she said innocently, in her best ethnic accent.

Vegeta spasmed slightly as he tried not to choke on his soup and gave Bulma a sharp look over the bowl.

Well, that confirmed it- Vegeta understood Eastern Standard.

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Briefs turned back to the occupants of the kitchen table, tray in hand. "Is that something new-" She paused, then her cheeks flushed pink. "Bulma Jean Briefs!" she exclaimed with a giggle, "you naughty girl!"

Much to Vegeta's chagrin, Mrs. Briefs evidently also understood Eastern Standard.

The blonde woman patted Vegeta's shoulder again as she went by, noting his slightly pink countenance. "Good for you, dear," she decided, murmuring to herself about young love and how wonderful it was.

"What the hell was that all about, Woman?" Vegeta demanded once the elder Briefs woman had gone. "Are you trying to choke me?"

Bulma lay down her chopsticks and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "Well," she began contemplatively, "I decided that if you were going to have bad table manners, then so would I."

"Bad table manners?" Vegeta echoed, insulted. "Woman, I am a _prince._ I do not have bad table manners. That third class retard _Kakarrot_ has bad table manners. I have seen his attempts to eat." He grimaced in distaste.

Bulma almost giggled at what Vegeta had just said, but managed to hold it in. "Vegeta, don't you remember what you just did? _That_ was bad table manners."

Vegeta frowned. "What are you talking about, Woman?"

"Putting your chopsticks in food meant for everyone is gross, especially if you've already used them. Which you have," Bulma pointed out. "At least turn them around and use the other ends."

Vegeta growled.

"I'm not trying to scold you or tell you what to do," Bulma told him softly. "I just don't want you to be embarrassed if you do something that happens to be incorrect here. That's all." She slid her plate over beside his and stood up with a stretch and a groan.

"Bed."

"What?"

"The physician for females required you to rest," Vegeta reminded her as he dug into the remainder of her lunch. "Tell your mother you must rest and then go to bed."

Bulma shifted on her feet nervously. "I just don't want her to worry."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "You carry her grandchild, as she is so fond of telling everyone. Of course she is going to shriek about it."

Bulma sighed. "Thanks for the encouraging words."

Vegeta looked up from his food. "I told you the brat is fine. The woman told you he is fine. Quit worrying about it and go to bed before you do become ill. I don't feel like listening to you whine and weep that you should have stayed in bed if something happens to him."

"Is something wrong, dear?"

Mrs. Briefs stood behind them, clutching her hands together worriedly.

"Not exactly," Bulma began slowly. "I had some bleeding this morning, so Vegeta took me to see Natsue."

"Oh! Are you all right? You... you haven't..." Mrs. Briefs trailed off.

"The brat is fine," Vegeta interrupted before Bulma could speak. "The physician believes that the woman is experiencing minor difficulties because of my Saiyan genes. It will pass."

"The woman?" Bulma echoed irritably, although inwardly she was pleased that Vegeta had obviously paid attention. It was then that she couldn't help but wonder what else Natsue had spoken to Vegeta about in her office.

Vegeta ignored Bulma's indignant response. "She must remain in bed until the physician gives her leave to resume normal activities," continued.

"Oh, then we need to get you to bed right away, dear," Mrs. Briefs decided. "Come along, now." She herded her daughter out of the kitchen.

Vegeta merely shrugged and continued eating. Hopefully these crazy females would allow him to finish his meal in peace.

His silent plea was thwarted as Mrs. Briefs reentered the kitchen and sat down across from him at the table. "It was very good of you to take Bulma to the doctor today," she told him softly. "I can tell that she's dreadfully worried about the possibility of losing the baby."

Vegeta looked up at her. "The child's ki is strong. There is no danger."

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "Thank you, just the same. Bulma said it really meant a lot to her for you to be there."

Vegeta paused. What was he supposed to say to that? "I suppose she seemed pleased."

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Bulma loves you very much, you know."

Vegeta continued to stare at her for a few seconds before going back to his food in a very reclusive fashion.

Mrs. Briefs could see that her statement had taken him off guard. "I'm sorry if you weren't expecting to hear me say that, but she does. I think she has since she first met you," she mused. "And she's _so_ excited about being a mother, oh my! She was so pleased when she told me about her ultrasound today. Did you see the baby too?"

How the blonde-haired woman so easily switched tracks from one topic to the next was a mystery. "Yes, she insisted that I look."

Mrs. Briefs giggled at the expression on his face. "Not much to look at right now, are they?"

"Not really," Vegeta agreed a little uncomfortably. He pushed his chair back and got up from the table.

"It's exciting that we can actually watch them grow." Mrs. Briefs lapsed back into her thoughtful mode. "I still have my ultrasound pictures from when I was pregnant with Bulma. Those are the things that a mother cherishes until her baby is born, and then for the memories later. I do hope Bulma is able to get some pictures." She giggled at Vegeta's expression; a blank stare coupled with a bit of trepidation colored his features. "You were able to see a few things, weren't you?"

Vegeta couldn't explain what it was about this woman that kept him from telling her off or even simply leaving the room. "Yes." He straightened up a little, suddenly remembering something of importance that he'd discovered that day.

"What is it, dear? Could you see the baby's arms and legs?"

"My son has a tail," he proclaimed proudly.

Mrs. Briefs smiled for the young man's evident pleasure that his son would have a tail. "How wonderful, Vegeta!" She giggled. "I suppose we'll have to cut little holes in his diapers for it to poke through. Or maybe we can order them specially made, just for him."

"Hn." Vegeta's attempt at keeping up an emotionless façade failed when the blonde-haired female giggled again and clapped her hands, and an amused smirk flickered at his lips.

"Oh my, but think how adorable he'll be," Mrs. Briefs continued. "With two such good-looking parents, how could he not be?" She paused thoughtfully. "I wonder, if he's a bald baby, will his tail still be fuzzy?" she mused to no one in particular.

"The boy will have hair when he is born," Vegeta spoke up immediately. "All Saiyan infants' heads were completely covered with hair when they came out of the gestation tanks, and none of this odd human trait of bald infants or those with very little hair. _My_ son will have hair. Make no mistake about that."

If she hadn't known better, Mrs. Briefs would have sworn that the young man was offended by her question. "Oh," she said simply. "Well, Bulma wasn't bald when she was born, either, so I guess that doubles the odds that the baby won't be bald." She smiled again. "I'm sure he'll be very handsome."

Vegeta grunted in response. "Of course the child will be attractive. After all, he _is_ my son."

Mrs. Briefs couldn't hold back a giggle. "You're such a dear young man," she declared.

"Hmph." A slight blush crept over the Saiyan's cheeks, a rather disgusting reaction that these two females tended to provoke in him. "I'm going to train."

"All right, dear. I'll have dinner ready around 5:30 or so." Mrs. Briefs watched him leave, a little smile on her face. He had thrice mentioned_ his son_, and had actually seemed proud of the fact.

Wouldn't Bulma be pleased?

* * *

"Hey." Bulma turned off the television and tossed the remote on the bed as Vegeta came in.

He eyed her. Why did she continue to say 'hey' to him? "Hey, yourself."

She giggled. "Listen, I'm glad to see you."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "I have only been gone from your presence for approximately four hours, Woman."

Bulma shrugged. "Yes, well, I'm bored, and you're never boring," she told him, gracing him with a smile.

"What am I, your entertainment today? If so, I assure you that you will be bored," Vegeta responded dryly.

She merely patted the bed beside her. "Come sit with me for a minute."

"What for?"

"Vegeta... just come sit with me." Bulma retrieved her laptop from her nightstand. "You're going to help me relieve my boredom."

Deciding it was better than listening to her complain, Vegeta did as she asked and crawled onto the bed next to her. He squirmed suddenly and pulled the remote out from underneath his backside where he'd inadvertently sat upon it, scowling at her giggles as he shoved it onto his nightstand. "What do you want?"

"That's just the question," Bulma countered, opening the laptop. "What do _you_ want? I want a challenge while I'm laid up in bed, and I'm sure you can think of some new little gizmo or thingamabob that you can use for your training, can't you?"

Her offer took him completely off guard, as he had assumed that she most likely regretted building him what she already had. "You want to make me more equipment?"

She shrugged. "Why not? I have nothing better to do for two months, right? I might as well do something useful if I'm not even allowed to do any work."

"This isn't work?"

"Well, it's work to invent things, but Natsue meant secular work. You know, the kind that involves stressful decisions and stuff you'd rather not think about." A slow smile crept over her lips. "You'd better take me up on my offer before I change my mind about building you any more new toys."

"Hmph." Based on her earlier complaints that he wasn't spending much time with her, he was inclined to believe her. "New toys."

Bulma giggled. "Well, if you don't want toys, what do you want?"

He thought about this for a moment. "Can you make some bots that I could spar with hand-to-hand? If the bots I have now can anticipate my moves, why not bots I can spar with?"

"You mean something humanoid?"

"Well, I was going to say bipedal and leave humans out of the equation, but since you mention it, sure. Something like that, yes." Vegeta grinned toothily.

"Let me guess, you want them to shriek in pain and bleed all over when you hit them, right?"

Vegeta could see the amusement in her eyes. "Sure, why not? Sounds good to me."

"Sounds good, huh? Well, I... Vegeta, speaking of bleeding, you're doing it all over the sheets again," Bulma pointed out. "Go get the first aid kit and a wet washcloth, and I'll clean you up."

"Woman-"

"Go. Shoo! And you'd better not go wandering off," Bulma warned as she gave him a little push toward the edge of the bed and closed the laptop again, placing it back on the nightstand.

"Wandering off, whatever," Vegeta grumbled irritably. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he was beginning to enjoy the personal attention she gave him while attending to his wounds. Her hands were so soft and gentle, and the warm wash cloth felt good. He understood now why she liked to do it for him, even if he couldn't fully understand this 'love' concept. He retrieved the items she'd asked for and returned to the bed.

Bulma took the wash cloth from him and put the first aid kit on the nightstand. "Sit here," she directed, patting the edge of the bed beside her. Normally she'd have him sit or lie on the bed and would kneel beside him on the mattress as she cleaned him up, but this would have to do. "Oh, this is where all of the blood is coming from," she commented as she cleaned up one cut in particular on his chest. "You're going to need stitches after you shower. It's too bad I don't have a senzu bean to give you, because that's going to leave a scar for sure."

He shrugged. "I have many scars. What is one more?"

Bulma paused. "I... Yes, you do."

He watched her as she cleaned the wound silently. "What is it, Woman?"

"I always wondered about them, especially the big ones. Like this one." Bulma drew a finger over a scar on his thigh, which was mostly hidden by his shorts. "Remember my discovery of _this_ particular scar while we were on Namek, hmm?"

His naughty smirk matched her own. "I think I do. I wouldn't think too much about it though, Woman. There's nothing you can do about it right now, unless you are already that eager to have me eat triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in front of you."

She pouted momentarily then looked back up at him. "Will you tell me how you got it?"

He frowned. "No," he objected rather forcefully.

Bulma was taken aback by his reaction. "Sorry, I was just curious. You don't need to snap at me about it."

Vegeta sighed and looked away. "It... it is not a memory that I wish to discuss, Bulma. That is all. It has nothing to do with you." He didn't need to tell her any more of his childhood than she already knew, that Frieza had taken him from his father when he was a little boy and forced him into servitude before destroying the planet, and that life hadn't been easy for him growing up. Frieza had regularly beaten and tortured him even into adulthood, but Vegeta didn't want Bulma to know that as a child and until he was strong enough to keep them away, Frieza allowed his lieutenants to use and abuse him however they saw fit when he felt that the boy needed to be 'put back in line'. He didn't want her to know that the disgusting lizard enjoyed witnessing the abuse, or that they sometimes even abused him without their employer's consent, to which Frieza usually turned a blind eye. She didn't need to know what their abuse consisted of, the when, where, who, or especially the how. He didn't need to remember that himself. It was that horrific. It was worse than what he had done to his own victims.

Thus resurfaced the worst part- the _why_. Why had Frieza done this to him, why had he allowed all of this to happen? He knew why- because it had worked, unfortunately all too well. The spirited, headstrong little five-year-old boy Frieza had taken from his father had hardened into a cold-hearted, bloodthirsty, mindless killing machine while on purges. It was maim or be maimed, kill or be killed, abuse or be abused-

"I'm sorry, Vegeta. I won't mention it again." Bulma's voice interrupted his thoughts. All the better.

Vegeta shook his head, trying to clear it of the memories. "It is not your fault," he told her wearily. "I know you are only concerned. But you need not be."

"I know, and I won't mention it again," Bulma repeated. "Just always remember that I care about you, Vegeta, and that I love you." She resumed cleaning the wound when he dropped his eyes again. "I don't want to see you hurt. I wish I could help take your pain away."

His head shot up suddenly. "There _is_ something you can do," he murmured, grasping her hand that was cleaning his wound.

"What?" His sudden change of behavior confused her.

Perhaps recalling ugly memories of his past had not been a completely bad thing after all. "I have your challenge, Woman. I have a new toy you can make me." A smirk crept onto his lips.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly. If he reacted this way to whatever had come to mind, she definitely wanted to be a part of it.

"I would not have all of these scars if I had access to senzu beans, as you indicated," Vegeta reminded her, "but I would have many, many more of them if Frieza had not had what was referred to as regeneration tanks on his ship."

"You mean, like what Goku used to get healed on Namek?" Bulma asked, recalling what Gohan had related to her. She assumed that Vegeta also must have used one after his fight with Goku when he first showed up on Earth, but wisely refrained from mentioning it.

"Exactly what Kakarrot used, yes," Vegeta agreed. "I want you to build me a regeneration tank."

Bulma blinked at him. "Vegeta, I'd be more than happy to make one for you if I knew how, but I haven't even the foggiest idea of where to start. Do you know?"

Vegeta nodded. "The basic concept, yes." He looked around the room.

"There are paper and pencils on the desk," Bulma offered, as if reading his mind.

Vegeta got up and found the paper. "I never really got a good look at one, except from the inside," he told her, "but the basic premise is as so."

She watched in awe as he sat back down beside her and began to rapidly sketch a rough picture of a squat, dome-shaped object with a glass top. A curved arm with a control panel protruded from it, and various hoses were attached. "So, you sat inside?"

"Yes, the patient sat here," Vegeta murmured, still sketching. "A breathing mask was fitted to him, and electrodes were attached to monitor vital signs. Then the tank was sealed and healing fluid pumped inside. I never did find out the composition of that fluid, but it very greatly assisted the healing process." He dropped the pencil on top of the paper.

"That's fascinating," Bulma breathed. "Wow, talk about a challenge for sure." She took hold of her chin in contemplation. "Did it work just on Saiyans, or other species too?"

"Everyone," Vegeta confirmed, "but I do not know if there were different types of fluid for each species or if the fluid was created to be compatible to all. As I said, I only ever saw one of the tanks upon awakening from being inside of it." He sighed, remembering how the alien doctor who had healed him the last time had attempted to give him his scouter, which he had rejected. "If I had a scouter, it might be possible to hack into one of Frieza's databases still in existence and download the information, but I no longer have one."

"That's what you think," Bulma told him in a sing-song voice, grinning when Vegeta turned to look at her in surprise.

"Where the hell would you get a scouter, Woman?" he demanded.

"I have the one Radditz was wearing when he came to Earth," she told him proudly. "It's not fully functional, but I'll bet I could get it working enough to rig it up to a computer."

He was looking at her with the same expression of fondness he'd had when she'd given him the bot. "Good," he said softly, reaching over to cup her cheek. "If you are able to fix the scouter and maintain a moderately pleasant attitude, you should do so." He chuckled at the expression on her face. "What? I've seen you throw inventions across your lab in anger, Woman. Your physician for females indicated that you must remain quiet, and I will not be blamed if you have a conniption if you are unable to fix it."

Bulma crossed her arms, a scowl on her face. "You're on, macho man. I'll have that thing fixed and ready to go before you know it."

Vegeta stood up and placed the paper on her lap. "I believe you, Bulma. I truly do." He leaned over to kiss her gently.

She smiled up at him when they parted. "Thanks, Vegeta."

He grunted in response. "I am going to take a shower," he told her, tossing the clothes he'd worn to the doctor's office in a laundry basket by the bed. Mrs. Briefs had provided it, since he never waited to put his clothes in the bathroom hamper.

"Didn't Mom just wash those jeans?" Bulma asked. "You couldn't have gotten them dirty already."

Vegeta peeled off his shorts, tossing them in after the jeans. "Some brat at the physician's office got candy on them," he complained.

Bulma giggled. "Veg, you weren't playing with that little boy in the waiting room, were you?" She smiled broadly, not only at the sight of the naked Saiyan standing cross-armed before her, but at the very thought of her mate playing with some random toddler in a waiting room.

Vegeta scowled. "No, I was not playful with that irritating brat. And why must you persist in addressing me by such nonsensical names unbefitting of the Prince of all Saiyans?" he growled.

"Sorry," she told him meekly. "Now quit teasing me and get that cute butt of yours in the shower," she demanded playfully in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She held in a sigh of relief when he merely waved off his admiring audience and trudged into the bathroom. "Whatever, Woman."

Bulma did notice a slight pinkness to his cheeks as he turned but said nothing. He really was cute when he blushed, she decided, and picked up his drawing again. "This design seems like such a waste of space," she murmured to herself, setting the sheet next to a blank one that had been beneath it. "What if..."

She was still sketching when he emerged from the bathroom. "What are you drawing?" he asked, having expected that she would simply attempt to construct a tank based on what he had outlined for her. "Plans for my humanoid bots?" He went over to his dresser and pulled out some clean clothes.

"I understand the reason for the regeneration tank design, but I just don't like it for some reason," Bulma responded. "While the dome design would allow for greater circulation of fluid, it seems like a waste of space. Also, what if the patient was injured to the extent that he wasn't able to sit up on his own? You'd either have to strap him into a seat or lay him down. I don't see either option comfortably happening here, especially if your patient is a very tall or big individual."

Vegeta realized that his eyebrows had risen in surprise at her observations and quickly pulled his clothes on as he went back over to the bed. "What did you have in mind?"

"What about a more cylindrical shape? Something taller and narrower," Bulma suggested, showing him a very rough sketch. "You could still sit if you wanted to, or, you could make the fluid such that by the time the tank filled up, the patient would actually float rather comfortably in it, relieving pressure on injured joints that would result from the weight of the body on them. Or," she continued with her rapid fire of excitement, "the cylinder could be made so that it could be placed on its side to lay the patient down, or at an angle to keep blood circulation higher at one end of the body than the other. Or what about making the whole thing portable so it could be encapsulated and you could take it with you? Kami, I have so many ideas, Vegeta! I can't wait to get that scouter fixed so I can get into that database! Who knows what other goodies I'll find? This is so cool!" She clasped her hands together, her blue eyes large and shining with excitement as she gazed up at him.

Vegeta had been utterly astonished by the sketches she'd been showing him; he hadn't expected this at all. He found that her enthusiasm was contagious, and another rare smile crept over his face as he shook his head in wonderment and sat down on the bed next to her. "You truly are a remarkable woman, Bulma," he told her softly, cupping her cheek in one large hand. "I knew I'd have your quick tongue to deal with when I mated you, but still I never expected such a mind _and_ the woman."

Bulma blushed deeply, flattered by his implication. Even if he never actually said the words to her, she knew he found her attractive. Gohan had told her so. But now he had not only complimented her appearance but her intelligence, and neither compliment had been made in jest. She turned her face to nuzzle his palm and placed a kiss upon it before turning the intense blue gaze he would never admit that enthralled him back to meet his. She sighed blissfully when he kissed her ever so softly. Why couldn't he always be this way? "Thanks for everything today, Vegeta. It really meant a lot to me." She took his hand in hers.

"Hmph." Vegeta sat back against the headboard and was about to grab the remote control to turn on the television when something in the laundry basket caught his eye. _The physician's list._ "Woman, I have something from the physician that I neglected to give to you." He let go of her hand and leaned over to retrieve his dirty pants.

"What, Natsue's new list?"

"Here." Vegeta stuffed the paper into her hand and got up to leave, careful to keep the card Natsue had given him for himself. He didn't need to alert Bulma to the fact that Natsue had offered him her help.

Bulma opened the list, and a small object tumbled out. "Wait, what's this?" She looked up at Vegeta, who suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable. "This is a USB drive."

"The physician asked me to give it to you," he told her, not meeting her eyes. "She said you would wish to view it."

Bulma's face lit up like a thousand watt bulb. "Are these my ultrasound pictures?" she squealed in excitement. She grabbed her laptop and opened it, then popped the drive in an open port. "Ooh, I'll have to show Mom, and all of the girls at work..." She trailed off, suddenly realizing why Vegeta was acting so strangely. "Vegeta?"

"What is it, Woman?"

She swallowed, gathering up her courage. "Will you sit with me while I look at the pictures?"

That irksome feeling pitted itself in his stomach as her blue eyes silently pleaded with him. She nibbled at her bottom lip nervously, as if afraid he would be angered simply by asking such a thing of him. Just like holding her earlier, he knew it would crush her to refuse her simple request. His own mate should not be afraid to speak to him, and yet she was when it came to the child. His mind warred with itself every time he thought about his unborn son. While it was easier to cast all thoughts of the child aside, he knew he would have to come to terms with his mate's pregnancy if he desired to stay with her. Would it really hurt him to do another 'stupid little thing' for her? Did it really matter all that much?

Damn it!

"All right, Woman. But only for a moment."

Tears formed in her eyes and her lips trembled as he sat back down beside her. Wordlessly, she took his hand, her fingers threading through his. It didn't matter that he didn't react, that he wasn't paying much if any attention to the pictures, that he wasn't excited like she was. What mattered was that he was there with her without her having to beg him not to leave. She wanted more than anything for him to love her and their child, but first she needed to help him learn to _accept_ her love. She cuddled up against him and squeezed his hand. She'd never give up on him.

Bulma burst into tears when she felt him squeeze her hand back ever so gently. Maybe he would get there sooner than later.


	7. Chapter 7

Reformatted 12/25/09

AN: This chapter introduces a big turning point in the story which you'll see in the next chapter. That's where the real action starts. (Hint: read Chapter One again...) In this chapter, you will see some lines I took from the anime. I have, however, rearranged the bits from that scene to suit my purposes.

Special thanks go to my better half for reviewing this for me. :)

Please let me know what you think and, as always, enjoy!

: : = telepathy

/ / = the Saiyan language

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Seven

Chi-Chi rang the doorbell and waited. She hadn't seen Bulma since everyone got back from Namek and was eager to see her friend, especially if the rumors she'd been hearing were true. But oftentimes rumors were just that- rumors- and she wanted to confirm the truth behind them for herself.

Besides, evidently Bulma was sick in bed, which wasn't a good thing if she really was expecting a baby. Chi-Chi knew that Bulma loved her spicy chicken tortilla soup and had made some especially for her.

The door opened and she smiled at the little boy who stood in the doorway. "Good morning, Dende. How are you today?" she asked cheerfully as she stepped inside.

"Good morning, Mrs. Son. I'm just fine, thank you. You?"

"I'm well, thanks, but I hear that Bulma is sick and I wanted to come bring her some soup."

"Well, actually she's not sick, she's-"

Chi-Chi turned her head and looked behind her, not hearing what the little Namek had to say. "Gohan, come along now," she called to her son.

"Coming, Mom!" Gohan pushed the air car door shut, burdened down with a stack of textbooks that nearly obscured his vision. "Hi, Dende!"

"Gohan, can I help you?" Dende exclaimed, rushing over to take some of the books from his friend. It wasn't as though they were too heavy, but the top of the stack looked rather unstable.

"Thanks Dende," Gohan said gratefully, handing over part of the books.

"What are all of these books for?" Dende wanted to know as they came indoors.

"Gohan is still behind in his studies after gallivanting all over outer space the way he did," Chi-Chi announced in a voice that would allow for no contradiction on either boy's part. "I told him he could only come if he did part of his homework while we were here."

Dende's eyes grew big as saucers. "That's just _part_ of your homework?" he squeaked in terror.

"Uh-huh," Gohan agreed wearily.

"What was that?" Chi-Chi prompted as she hung up her jacket in the coat closet. "That isn't proper grammar, young man."

"Sorry, Mom." Gohan gave his own jacket to his waiting mother.

"All right. Let's go see Bulma and then you can get started on your studies," Chi-Chi decided.

"But Mrs. Son, Bulma is still-"

Again Chi-Chi didn't seem to hear what Dende had to say and thrust the bowl of soup into the boy's hands. "Dende, would you please put this soup in the refrigerator for me? Thank you."

"But..." Dende watched helplessly as Chi-Chi and Gohan headed for the stairs. Chi-Chi wasn't necessarily being rude to him, he realized, but seemed rather distracted by whatever was on her mind. He should have been a little more assertive with the strong-willed woman, since Bulma was still asleep, as was someone _else_ in the room. He hadn't emerged from Bulma's room yet, anyway.

The boy poked his head into the den. "Guys, just so you know, I think the fireworks will be starting soon," he informed his fellow Namekians.

"Why, what's wrong, Dende?" Moori asked, alarm coloring his features as he poised himself to get up from his seat.

"Well... nothing's really wrong," Dende began hesitantly. "Chi-Chi is here, and she just went upstairs to see Bulma."

A few gasps and nervous chattering rippled through the room.

"I did try to stop her," Dende offered.

The elder Namek considered this. "Well, be it upon her own head, then," he decided, much to the boy's shock. "What? I have no desire to confront Vegeta, especially if I woke him up, do you?"

The boy paused, considering this. As shocking as Moori's statement had been, he was forced to agree. After all, he _had_ tried to warn the woman. "I guess so," he conceded with a shrug, then plopped down in front of the television to play a game of Tetris.

* * *

"Mom, aren't we a little early?" Gohan asked. "After all, she is sick, right?"

"Nonsense, Gohan. That's why we're here," Chi-Chi insisted, rapping on the bedroom door. "We'll visit for a little bit and see if she needs anything, then we'll go. The Briefs are on a business trip, so she probably needs someone other than the Nameks to look after her. I doubt they know how to cook."

"Yes, but Vegeta is here. I can sense him nearby. Maybe he's helping take care of her while her parents are gone. I don't think they would just leave her by herself," Gohan pointed out.

Chi-Chi gave him a look that clearly said that her son hadn't thought that one through very well. "Son, do you really think that horrid man would have anything to do with Bulma, let alone lift his royal finger to help?" She knocked again and opened the door a crack. "Bulma?"

A growl issued from within the bedroom. "What the hell?" Vegeta grumbled, rolling onto his stomach and pulling his pillow over his head. The one day he actually planned to sleep in, Kakarrot's brat and- worse yet- harpy mate decide to show up.

Bulma drew in a deep breath as she awoke. "Chi-Chi?" she asked in surprise, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Chi-Chi's eyes, on the other hand, were wide with surprise. "B-Bulma? Is that... are you...?" The usually quick spoken woman was shocked speechless. That couldn't possibly be who she thought it was in the bed with her friend, could it?"

"Go away, Female!" came Vegeta's annoyed voice from under the pillow. "Begone, before I blast you and your brat to the next dimension!"

Bulma sat up and grabbed her own pillow, smacking it down hard onto her mate's head. "Would you please shut up?" she snapped, ignoring the growling coming from the other side of the bed. "What are you doing here, Chi?"

"I... I heard you were sick," Chi-Chi managed. "I wanted to know if you needed anything... Why is Vegeta in your bed?"

Vegeta flung both pillows at the door. "Go _away,_ you meddling, bothersome woman!"

Chi-Chi's surprise quickly turned to indignance and she placed her hands on her hips. "Why, you royal pain in the neck!"

"Both of you shut up," Bulma interrupted. "I don't need this first thing in the morning. Kami, do I ever have to pee." She slipped out of the bed and padded toward her bathroom.

"Bulma, you... you're going to have a baby," Gohan exclaimed upon catching sight of her swollen belly. His mother hadn't told him that, just that Bulma was unwell.

Vegeta sat up in the bed and rolled his eyes. "Not many people have ever truly managed to astound me, but the lack of clarity of whether this brat boasts his mother's or father's intellectual ability is utterly mind boggling indeed." He smirked at the infuriated look on Chi-Chi's face and the way her clenched fists were shaking with rage. "Aww, what's the matter, Harpy?"

Chi-Chi's face grew red now. "How dare you, you misbegotten, egotistical jerk!" she shrieked.

"See what I mean?" Vegeta turned his attention to the demi-Saiyan standing in the doorway, who was shaking his head and waving his hands to indicate his wish _not_ to become involved. "No wonder your father chose to die rather than return here-"

"That does it!" Chi-Chi shouted. She stormed across the room, fully intending to strangle the smirking man sitting in her friend's bed.

Gohan stepped in front of his rampaging mother in an attempt to intercede. "Mom, please don't do this," he pleaded. "You know that it's not what Dad would have wanted."

Chi-Chi stared at her son for a moment before finally relenting. He was right. Goku really wouldn't want her to behave this way. "Fine." Her eyes snapped back to Vegeta. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Woman, I _live_ here," Vegeta told her in a tone of voice one might use when addressing a small child.

Chi-Chi huffed in exasperation. "I know that. I meant what are you doing in Bulma's bed?"

Vegeta scowled at her. "Is it not permissible for a man to lie beside his own mate as he sleeps?" he asked, sarcasm coloring his voice. "That _is_ what we were doing when you arrived here, Woman."

"Mate?" Chi-Chi echoed. "Just what do you mean by that?"

Bulma emerged from the bathroom. "Just what it sounds like, Chi," she responded, having heard the other woman's question. "We're together."

"Animals take mates," Chi-Chi informed her haughtily. "You aren't animals. Well, at least not you, Bulma."

"Would you like to see just how much of an animal I am?" Vegeta remarked, slipping out of the bed.

Chi-Chi immediately covered her son's face and turned hers away in distaste. "Oh! For the love of Kami, would you kindly put some clothes on, you vile little man?"

"Aww, what's the matter, Harpy?" Vegeta taunted. "I was under the impression that you liked naked Saiyans."

"Only when they're worth looking at, and _stop_ calling me that!" Chi-Chi screeched, covering Gohan's eyes even more tightly.

"See? Just proving my point." Vegeta's smirk widened.

"Mooom..." the poor boy began. He didn't want to embarrass his mother by pulling away from her, but her grasp was becoming irritating, not to mention embarrassing.

"Both of you can it!" Bulma yelled. "Vegeta, quit provoking her and put some clothes on. Chi-Chi, you quit provoking him. And couldn't you have at least called first before you came over?"

Vegeta had decided that the raven-haired banshee had learned her lesson and was pulling on a pair of shorts. "I concur. After all, you should be grateful we were sleeping in the traditional sense of the word, Woman." He smirked at the disgusted look Chi-Chi gave him.

Bulma ran her hand over her face and sighed. "Vegeta, I swear to Kami..." She looked over to her mate, who was walking out onto the balcony, athletic shoes in hand. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To train, and to relieve my ears from the cacophony of all of the screeching going on since I was so rudely awakened this morning," he told her dryly.

Bulma ignored his sarcasm. "But, I need you to take me for my follow-up appointment with Natsue. We need to leave in a little more than an hour," she objected.

Vegeta frowned at her. "Do not presume to tell me what I must and must not do," he informed her. "This is females' business. Ask Harpy over there take you."

Bulma held up a hand before Chi-Chi could say anything. "Guys, could you give us a moment, please?"

Chi-Chi looked skeptical but finally lead her son out of the room, closing the door behind them. Bulma turned back to Vegeta when the door clicked shut.

"Vegeta, this is for our baby. I need you there with me," she insisted.

"And I told you that not only is it imperative that I train, but that unborn brats are the concern of females, not mine. I have no intention of returning to that physician's office to be poked and prodded and questioned again," Vegeta told her tersely.

"Vegeta, I know how important your goals are and I know that you'll achieve them. But this is important to me. This check-up won't be about you. It's to see whether or not I'm able to return to normal activities yet." Bulma reached out to take his hand in hers.

"All the more reason that it is unnecessary for me to accompany you," Vegeta pointed out. "Have Kakarrot's harpy accompany you. Your physician did indicate that it would be beneficial to converse with her, did she not?"

Bulma opened her mouth to respond and shut it again. "But..." She fought back tears; he _was_ right when he said there was really no point in his being there, and Natsue _would_ benefit from talking to Chi-Chi. "I... I guess you're right," she whispered. "I just really wanted you there with me, that's all."

Vegeta held in a sigh as he tried to ignore her tears. "Bulma, I will be here upon your return," he told her in a low voice. "Just go with Kakarrot's mate. Now, return to bed and calm yourself, before I need to eat triple fudge brownie ice cream in front of you again."

His lips curled up into a smirk at her indignance. It wasn't as though he had been consciously keeping track of her, but he had decided to take advantage of the fact that Nuiko had hung around for just over two hours one afternoon and had used the opportunity to cash in on a bowl of the delectable treat. Bulma had thought it was _so_ sweet of him to bring her dinner instead of her mother- that is, until she saw the large bowl of ice cream, complete with whipped cream and a cherry, on the tray beside her dinner. Vegeta had perched himself at the foot of the bed facing her and fairly devoured the ice cream.

"You're evil," she'd pouted.

"It took you _this_ long to come to that realization?" he'd countered with amusement. Once he'd finished his ice cream, he got up from the bed and went over to his scowling mate, placing an oh so sweet kiss upon her lips. "No more disobedience," he'd whispered in her ear. "Although, I'm very much looking forward-" he chuckled huskily- "to punishing you when your physician gives you leave."

Hot and frustrated, she'd watched him leave the room, thinking of ways that _she_ could punish _him._ Now, her eyebrow rose. "You would too," she accused him darkly as she got back into the bed.

Vegeta chuckled as he had before. "Of course I would, if you're that eager to watch me to eat your favorite ice cream. Why shouldn't I? It's quite tasty." He smirked at her scowl and planted another kiss on her lips.

Bulma couldn't keep the stupid smile off of her face. "Veg?"

Vegeta had recently come to the somber realization that the woman simply would not be broken of this ridiculous habit of addressing him in usages other than his actual name. "What is it, Woman?"

"Would you get me something to eat before you go to the GR?" she asked.

Vegeta opened the bedroom door. "Unless you want cereal, you had best ask Kakarrot's woman to cook you something," he advised.

"I don't mind," Chi-Chi responded. She hadn't left the hallway and scowled at him as he stepped through the doorway.

"Good." Vegeta eyed the dark-haired woman. "Bulma needs to go to her physician's office. I have determined that you should accompany her-"

"Don't tell me you're trying to shirk your responsibility to Bulma and this child," Chi-Chi spat angrily. "I can't believe you'd be such a lazy-"

Vegeta looked extremely perturbed but carried on anyway. "Woman, you have already birthed a Saiyan brat, and the physician has expressed a desire to speak with you. I would presume it to be safe to think that as my mate's friend, you would wish to accommodate her needs in a way that I cannot," he interrupted.

Chi-Chi's anger slowly faded and her face softened. "Oh. Well, that being the case, of course I would be more than happy to go with Bulma."

"Good. I leave the well-being of both the woman and the brat in your hands." There was a hint of warning in the Saiyan prince's voice.

"Don't you worry about that," Chi-Chi told him bluntly, unsure of whether to be offended by the implication or flattered that one such as he would want her help. "I'll get Bulma and the baby there just fine." She turned to Bulma. "What did you want for breakfast, Bulma? I can cook you something while you shower."

"Oh, I'll have whatever Vegeta's having," Bulma responded casually.

Again Chi-Chi found her reaction torn; should she be irritated that Bulma had recruited her to cook for a man she didn't like one iota, or impressed by the way she had done it? These two were like peas in a pod this morning! "I see," she responded, a hint of amusement in her eyes; evidently she had chosen the latter option. "Well Vegeta, I'm not your servant so if you want breakfast, I expect you to pitch in."

Vegeta scowled at her. "I'm not your servant either, Female."

"Vegeta, please just help Chi-Chi if she needs it," Bulma implored.

He scowled.

Bulma reached toward him. "Come here."

Vegeta's scowl deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Please come here," Bulma repeated softly.

He relented with a sigh and put his shoes down before going over to her. "What is it, Woman?"

Bulma reached up and took his hand, pulling him down to her. "Thank you," she whispered. Before he could move, she turned her face up to his and kissed him.

_The harpy is watching._ Vegeta's first inclination was to pull away, but his woman was persistent, as if she were aware of his intention, and put her free hand behind his head.

Chi-Chi found herself surprised when the Saiyan relaxed and he slightly leaned into Bulma's kiss. Could it be that the man actually cared about her? She would have to see what she could find out while she and Bulma were at the doctor's office.

When their kiss ended, Bulma's fingers brushed along Vegeta's cheek lovingly as he stood back up. "All right, all right, Woman," he grumbled, blushing ever so slightly. Her eyes shone with happiness, and he couldn't bring himself to chastise her, which irritated him. He was getting soft again. "You need to get in the shower." He turned away to leave and saw Chi-Chi watching him. "What are you looking at?" he grumbled.

"I'm simply concerned for my friend's welfare. Isn't that what you wanted?" Chi-Chi reminded him.

Vegeta pursed his lips. "Whatever, Woman," he growled. "Go make my mate some breakfast."

Chi-Chi stepped aside to let him out of the room. "Bulma, I just can't help but wonder, why-"

"Chi, I know what you're about to say. Don't, okay?" Bulma interrupted. "Please just go to the kitchen."

"He left, presumably to train, remember? I told him that I wasn't going to serve him if he didn't want to pitch in," Chi-Chi retorted.

"Mom? Vegeta's shoes are still here and he didn't leave through the window like he was going to before," Gohan pointed out. "His ki is headed towards the kitchen."

Chi-Chi sighed. "Fine. Take your shower, Bulma. Do you need anything before I go?"

Bulma shook her head. "Nope, I'm fine, thanks," she assured her friend.

"All right. Come along, Gohan." Chi-Chi headed down the stairs towards the kitchen, trepidation settling in her belly. What did Vegeta want from Bulma? Did he love her, or even care about her? Was he even capable of it? He was, after all, a heartless, cold-blooded killer. He was interested in training; perhaps he was simply after a comfortable place to do that and Bulma was a convenient bedmate until he tired of her.

But what if the prince actually _did_ care about her? The very possibility boggled Chi-Chi's mind.

The prince in question looked up from the refrigerator with a sigh when Chi-Chi and Gohan entered the kitchen. "The woman already consumed all of the health conscious bread her mother purchased for her," he mumbled. "She cannot have anything fried, and the smell of even poached eggs makes her ill." He shut the refrigerator door and eyed the dark haired woman speculatively. "There are not many consumables available to choose from. I suppose you will need to be creative." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Couldn't Bulma just go out to eat?" Gohan asked.

"No," Vegeta responded sternly. "The physician for females indicated that she must remain in bed until she is given leave." He went back to rifling through the contents of the refrigerator.

"Then what else is there?" Chi-Chi mused. "She can't have eggs, pancakes are fried..."

"Cereal," Gohan interjected. "She could eat cereal, right?"

Vegeta stood up and shut the refrigerator door. His hand slowly set the now empty carton of milk he'd just finished onto the countertop and grimaced at the boy, who'd winced when he'd seen the carton.

"Oh, wonderful," Chi-Chi mumbled. So much for that idea. "I could make her some oatmeal."

Now, oatmeal _was_ something that Vegeta knew how to prepare. Through bitter experience while growing up, he already knew how to cook enough things to survive on, but he was damned if he'd admit to that. Oatmeal was easy. "Go ahead, but you'll only hear, 'Oatmeal again? I'm so sick of it I could scream!' from the woman," he informed her.

Chi-Chi's lips suddenly twitched; whether it was in surprised amusement at Vegeta's quite good imitation of his mate or in annoyance he couldn't tell. "Very well," she conceded. "You said she can't have eggs?"

"She may as long as they have not been fried, but the odor of them makes her ill," Vegeta corrected her.

It was then that Chi-Chi realized with renewed surprise just how weary Vegeta looked. He, too, appeared to be at his wits' end trying to figure out how to feed Bulma. "Okay... What about hard-boiled eggs, once they've cooled?"

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. He hadn't thought of that. "Make it so," he directed with a slight nod. He selected an orange from the fruit bowl on the countertop and hesitated before starting to peel it.

Chi-Chi thought she heard the tiniest of sighs come from the prince standing nearby and held in a smile. Maybe he really did care about her friend after all. "How many eggs did you want, Vegeta?" she asked softly.

"Do not concern yourself, Woman," Vegeta responded. "I will attend to my own needs once you have left."

Chi-Chi paused in her task of selecting a pot with which to boil the eggs. "Are you sure? It's not any harder to boil enough for you."

"I will go to a dining establishment," he told her. As the words came from his mouth, he realized his error- he had no money. Bulma was the one who always paid when they went to a restaurant. Where could he get some money? Bulma had to have money stashed somewhere.

"Oh." Chi-Chi didn't notice his trepidation, as she had another concern in mind. "Well, I suppose we could bring Gohan with us," she mused. "He can work on his homework in the waiting room."

Vegeta watched the boy's eyes grow wide. "But Mom," he objected, "that's a _lady's_ doctor you're taking Bulma to, isn't it? I don't want to go there." His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Nonsense, Gohan. No one will bother you there. You know very well that you aren't old enough to stay home by yourself yet," Chi-Chi insisted, conveniently forgetting about the time her son had spent alone while preparing for Vegeta and Nappa's arrival.

"Can't I stay here?" Gohan continued, trying not to sound like he was pleading. "I could spend time with Dende."

Chi-Chi shook her head. "No, I don't want you spending too much time fooling around with Dende instead of doing your homework," she insisted, much to the boy's disappointment. "You're still behind, remember?"

Vegeta watched Gohan's face fall. He actually found himself feeling sorry for the boy, having been trapped in that miserable Kami forsaken waiting room himself. "I will take the boy with me," he heard himself saying. "Afterwards, we will spar, then he will attend to his schooling."

Chi-Chi realized she was gaping and shut her mouth. "You... you want to take him with you?"

"I broke the GR yesterday," Vegeta admitted, "and no one is available to fix it. The boy will spar with me instead."

Gohan brightened visibly. Even if Vegeta beat him up, it was a heckuva lot better than being stuck in a waiting room, ugh! "Oh, wow! May I, Mom? Please? It's physical education, right?"

Chi-Chi faltered momentarily. She didn't want to take time from her son's education and she didn't trust Vegeta. Then again, the prince _was_ offering. What his true motives were she didn't know, but she knew that Goku would have leapt at the opportunity; even more, she was sure that Bulma would be pleased. "I suppose so," she relented.

"Thanks, Mom! Hey Dende, guess what?" Gohan exclaimed, running for the den. "I get to go to a restaurant, and spar with Vegeta! Isn't that cool?"

Chi-Chi watched her son scamper off and turned her attention to the older Saiyan. "Why?"

Vegeta scowled at her. "Do not question my motives, Female. Or would you rather disappoint the boy when I change my mind because of your loud mouth?"

Chi-Chi was about to retort but the look he gave her was dead serious. "Thank you for offering," she said quietly instead. "I know he misses spending time with his father." Her voice trembled slightly, and she turned back to the stove to check on her eggs.

Vegeta put the orange he'd peeled on a tray for Bulma. "Sure, whatever. How much longer until the eggs are cooked?" he asked in attempt to change the subject. He didn't know why he was carrying on a conversation with this annoying woman, and found it disconcerting that he was actually affected by her behavior. Yes, these females and their incessant outpouring of hormones and emotional outbursts he was forced to endure were making him soft. He would have to be sterner with his woman. No more weeping spells, and most definitely no more of these ridiculous displays of affection, especially around other females, who would think that it was 'sweet'. The Prince of all Saiyans was _anything_ other than sweet!

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. "Ten minutes. The water just started to boil."

"Fine." Vegeta felt out for his mate's ki; she was still in the shower. He probed a little more deeply and discovered that she was singing to herself with that same off-key tone her mother sang in. A slow smirk spread over his lips; perhaps he would have a little fun with her. :Hurry up, Woman. Kakarrot's harpy is becoming annoying.:

Upstairs in her shower, Bulma let out a yelp of surprise and dropped the bottle of conditioner in her hand. "Vegeta? You scared the garbage out of me!" She couldn't see his shadow lurking outside of the shower, and somehow he just _sounded_ different than he normally did. "Are you in here?"

:I am in the kitchen. And it is not necessary that you verbalize your words. I can 'hear' you just fine.:

"You're in the kitchen?" Bulma peered out of the shower. Sure enough, Vegeta wasn't there. "But... but, how?"

He snorted mentally. :Obviously I am conversing with you telepathically, Woman. Desist in speaking with your voice. Speak to me with your mind,: he directed.

:Like this?:

:Like that.:

:This is pretty cool! I didn't know Saiyans were telepathic!:

She received the mental equivalent of a roll of the eyes. :Hmph. Evidently, Woman.:

:Hey, don't get all sarcastic on me. Why did you wait so long to do this?:

Again, she received another mental gesture, a shrug this time. :I don't know. Perhaps I did not feel inclined to do so before now.: He paused. He was doing it again, damn it, and being playful with the woman. :Are you almost done?:

:Almost. Is Chi-Chi making breakfast yet?:

:Yes. It will be ready in ten minutes... The harpy is whining at me again.:

Bulma felt a sudden cold, empty feeling of loss in her mind as he terminated their mental conversation. It was a strange but, oddly enough, comfortable feeling to speak with him that way. In a way, the feeling of both his consciousness and his mental expression in her mind of reactions that were typically physical responses could almost be compared to remembering the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms as he held her, even after he was gone and elsewhere. It was an intimate feeling, a very close and personal, private interaction.

She decided she liked it, very much so, and wanted him to share the experience with her again.

* * *

"What, Woman?"

Vegeta's voice sounded distracted, possibly somewhat irritated, but not angry. "I was trying to talk to you," Chi-Chi began a little cautiously, "but you seemed rather absorbed by whatever you were thinking about. I didn't intend to startle you."

"You didn't," Vegeta informed her. "It would take more than even the screeching of your shrill voice to startle me."

Chi-Chi was about to retort in kind when she noticed the briefest glimpse of a naughty little twinkle in the Saiyan prince's eyes. Her irritation turned to surprise as she suddenly realized what her friend must see in this man, but managed to hide it. Could it be that _Vegeta_ actually had a playful side? The very concept was staggering. The corner of her mouth curled up in a dry smile. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to shriek louder next time."

Ah! There it was again; she hadn't been mistaken. Chi-Chi found her curiosity piqued, wondering just what exactly hid beneath the bad attitude and scowl this man always portrayed.

"Hmph." Vegeta opened the refrigerator again and pulled out a carton of juice. He opened it and was just about to take a drink when he eyed her, set the juice on the counter, and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. He filled the glass with juice and left it there, scowled at her surprise, and stalked out of the kitchen. "Boy! I'm leaving. Get your ass out here if you don't want to be drooled on by worthless smelly brats all morning!" he shouted down the hall.

"Coming! I'm coming, Vegeta!" Gohan's voice answered quickly.

Chi-Chi stepped out of the kitchen and quietly crept toward the front door, where she saw Vegeta waiting impatiently as Gohan put on his jacket.

"Come along, Boy. It's not that cold out."

"Aren't we going to fly? That's cold."

"Hmph. Do you not know how to use your ki to keep yourself warm?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"But, nothing! If you cannot automatically do such things without even a thought, you're little better than a mere human. You need to quit fooling around and start working to better yourself, Brat, before you end up like your idiot father. Now, come along. I'm hungry."

Before Chi-Chi could say anything in her husband or son's defense or even express her opinion that he might want to wear a little more than spandex training shorts in public, Vegeta put the empty juice container on the small table by the door, grabbed a capsule from it, and ushered the boy outside.

"Uhm..."

"Spit it out, Boy."

"Aren't you, uhm..." Gohan sighed. He couldn't ask, not after just having had the conversation they did. "Never mind." He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Cold?" Vegeta laughed when the boy blushed. "Don't worry, Brat. I do have a little class." He levitated up and took the short route to the GR- up and over Capsule Corp.

Gohan followed him, eyeing the spaceship with curiosity. "What's the ship for?"

"I use it to train. The woman and her father equipped it to handle higher levels of gravity than that found on this mudball planet," Vegeta responded as he entered his access code.

Gohan's eyes widened with amazement as the ship's door opened with a mechanical hiss. "Wow, a gravity chamber? Is this like what Dad used when he was in space?"

Vegeta pursed his lips and went inside. The conversation had turned to that damn Kakarrot yet again. "So I have been told."

Gohan followed Vegeta in after a moment's hesitation and looked around. "Neat."

"Neat. Hmph." Vegeta returned to the main training area of the capsule, pulling a shirt over his head as he did so. "You may not find this place so fascinating when you're peeling yourself off of the floor later."

Gohan laughed a little nervously, running his hand along the back of his hair as his father was oft to do. "Yeah... maybe not," he agreed weakly. The floor _did_ look pretty hard. It even had a few dents in it. He suppressed a gulp.

"Quit being such a weakling," Vegeta scolded as he put on his shoes. "You have allowed your human mother to make you soft and cowardly. Your father is not here, and even if he was he would not always be able to protect you. What will you do when a threat arises? Cower like a little girl and take it?"

"Well, no-"

"No, indeed! You will fight like the Saiyan you are until your dying breath," Vegeta interrupted firmly. "You will fight me like a warrior today, Boy. I will give you no quarter even for your age." He looked down his nose at the boy. "How old are you, Brat?"

"Five," Gohan responded, bravely meeting his prince's piercing gaze. "Almost six."

"Hmph." Vegeta turned and strode for the door. "You are still young. Perhaps there is hope for you yet, if your mother has not completely ruined you. Come along, Boy."

Gohan followed the surly prince, wondering if maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all- that is, until thoughts of the ladies' doctor's office returned to mind. Maybe it wouldn't hurt _too_ badly when Vegeta pummeled him later that morning.

They flew back over the building and landed on the driveway, where Vegeta promptly opened a capsule containing a sleek red Ferrari Testarossa, the very vehicle that Bulma had attempted to bribe him to go in when he'd taken her to Natsue's office. If he hadn't been in such a hurry that day, he would most definitely have chosen this vehicle. It was Bulma's prized possession, and for good reason. Not only was it beautiful, but she'd had it custom built to suit her own little quirky desires. The perfectly tuned Italian V-12 rumbled like the throaty growl of a predatory beast on the hunt. It was the kind of car that made you salivate, as much as a starving man would when being presented with a nice, juicy steak with all the trimmings. She never let anyone else even _touch_ it, let alone drive it.

Too bad for Bulma that her mate had seen her rather carelessly toss the capsule onto the table. It was her own fault, really.

"You took Bulma's Ferrari?" Gohan squeaked in horror.

"That's what it looks like, doesn't it?"

Who cared what Vegeta had in store for him? Bulma was going to kill both of them! "We're not going to fly?" Gohan asked hopefully. Maybe he could talk Vegeta out of this.

"I thought it was 'too cold'!" Vegeta whined in imitation of the boy. "Now hurry up and get in, would you?" He climbed into the vehicle and started the engine, a broad grin spreading over his face despite his efforts to hide it when he revved the souped-up engine a couple of times. He licked his lips in anticipation of the ride ahead. Ah, _power..._

Gohan got in and hurriedly buckled his seat belt, earning a wicked deep-throated chuckle from the older Saiyan. "I- I didn't know you knew how to drive," he stammered.

"I don't," Vegeta contradicted Gohan, whose eyes grew even wider. He had seen his woman drive vehicles enough times, and the humans on the tele-video box drove them all the time; how hard could it be? He could pilot spaceships, could he not? This would be child's play comparatively. He put the car in gear and hit the gas, renewing his grin as the sportscar fairly flew down the driveway toward the main road with a shrill squeal of its tires. That was another thing Vegeta appreciated about the car- it wasn't an air car. You couldn't make such gratifying noises with an air car.

Gohan gripped the seat with white-knuckled terror as Vegeta, whose laughter bordered on maniacal, whipped the car out onto the main road with a sharp, last-second turn.

"Awww, are we scared, little boy?" Vegeta taunted, ignoring the horn blaring from a vehicle he'd nearly hit.

"N-no," Gohan managed, sitting up straighter in his seat. _And I thought _Bulma_ was a crazy driver!_

"Sure, sure. Whatever," Vegeta responded in a carefree manner. "Where did you want to go, Boy?"

Gohan stared at Vegeta in shock. The prince had a contented expression on his face, seemed to be enjoying himself, and actually _asked_ his opinion. "Uhm, there's a place that serves waffles we could go to. I went there once with Grandpa and it was good."

"Is that what you want? Waffles?" Vegeta eyed the boy briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

"Yes, please," the boy responded politely. "But if you want to go there, we need to turn at the next street-"

With another squeal of the tires, the sportscar cut in front of several other vehicles before tearing around the corner at an extremely sharp angle. "Move it, dumb ass!" Vegeta shouted out the window at another driver, grinning when the man yelled back angrily and shook his fist. Another driver appeared scared enough to have practically soiled herself, which Vegeta found to be equally amusing. Driving this Earth vehicle was indeed proving to be quite the fruitful source of entertainment!

Gohan slid down into his seat and pulled his hood down over his head to cover as much of his face as possible. He didn't need anyone to recognize him in the car with this insane driver, nor did he need to witness his death coming in the likely event that it should happen before they reached the restaurant.

"So where are we going, weakling?" Vegeta's good mood hadn't seemed to have diminished any; the only thing the man wasn't doing was singing along with the radio.

Gohan peeked out from underneath his hood. "Uhm, it's called the Interglobal Waffle Place," he responded meekly.

"What a stupid name. As for you, desist with the 'wells' and the 'uhms', Brat, and speak up," Vegeta demanded, despite being perfectly able to hear the boy. "Saiyans are not weak. We do what we want how we want it."

Gohan sat up straight in his seat again. "You need to turn again at the next street," he directed. "The building is the third one on the left."

Vegeta pulled the Ferrari into a space in a way that made it impossible to park next to him and cut the engine. "Now, where did I see that capsule?" he muttered, reaching past Gohan to rifle through the glove box.

"What are you looking for?" Gohan was almost afraid to ask.

"Money." Vegeta pulled out a couple of capsules, examined them, shrugged, and tossed one onto the pavement. "What the hell?"

Gohan couldn't hold in a childish little giggle as approximately fifty pair of shoes suddenly littered the parking lot. "Somehow I don't think that was the capsule you wanted."

"No kidding. Shut your trap and clean them up while I check this other one," Vegeta growled.

It was just as well; Gohan was grateful enough to still be alive that he'd had an overwhelming urge to throw himself out of the vehicle and kiss the sweet ground in relief. "Okay."

Vegeta frowned as the boy did exactly as he'd been told without complaint. He'd have to beat the complacency out of the little brat. He opened the next capsule, which contained the money he'd been looking for. Bulma always kept some emergency cash in her vehicle. "Hurry up, Boy."

"Almost done." Gohan encapsulated the huge pile of shoes and put the capsule back into the glove box.

Wordlessly, Vegeta headed for the restaurant, immediately scowling when he got inside. It was milling with people looking at merchandise as they waited for their table. "What the hell is all this crap?" he asked, poking at a Kami-awful shirt hanging on a clothes rack.

Gohan laughed. "I know! Isn't this stuff awful? Although I guess there are a few neat things scattered in with the dumb stuff."

There was that word again, _neat_. "Hmph. I just want my breakfast." He approached the hostess' podium as he'd seen Bulma do when they went out to eat.

"Good morning, Sir," the young lady behind the podium said. "How many for breakfast?"

"Two."

"Okay, smoking or non?"

"I don't care."

"Your name, Sir?"

"Vegeta."

"Okay. It'll be about ten minutes," she told him in the same bored voice.

"Fine." Vegeta crossed his arms irritably. They'd better have damned good coffee.

* * *

Gohan watched as Vegeta closed the GR door and armed the security system. "Vegeta?"

"What is it, Brat?"

Suddenly feeling nervous, Gohan almost started his sentence with 'uhm' but caught himself in time. "Thanks for breakfast and sparring with me today," he told the older Saiyan sincerely. "Sometimes Piccolo spars with me, but it's just not the same."

Vegeta knew what Gohan was trying to say- he missed sparring with his father. "Sure, whatever," he grumbled, herding the boy toward the house. "I expect you to be prepared next time. None of these sloppy blocks and weak attacks."

Gohan looked up at him with shining eyes. "You... you'll really spar with me again?"

Vegeta refused to look at him. "I am not your father, Brat, nor am I your Sensei. But I do understand the need to spar with others of your own race. I will summon you again. Practice your blocks and your left kick until then. I expect to see a notable difference."

Gohan smiled happily. "I'll really work hard, Vegeta, I promise!"

"See that you do, Brat," Vegeta replied curtly. The boy was excited to spar with him, and had responded to his constructive criticism positively. However, he couldn't help but feel unsettled about the whole situation. The Namek did well as the boy's Sensei, but his technique was not one that Vegeta felt a Saiyan should adopt as his standard. A Saiyan boy should be trained by his father. If the boy's father was dead, another relative accepted responsibility. That was the way it had been for generations. Was this to be just a few random sparring sessions, or was he unwittingly undertaking the responsibility of appropriately training the boy, since no other Saiyan male existed? Vegeta would have his own son to train someday. He didn't need another brat to train, someone else's brat- and a third class to boot.

He suppressed a sigh as they entered the house through the kitchen. This would require a lot of deep contemplation. Part of him felt a sense of responsibility to the boy, while the rest of him felt that it was none of his concern. He kicked off his shoes onto the mat at the door and headed for the refrigerator. "Here, Boy."

Gohan caught the bottle of water Vegeta tossed to him. "Thanks."

Vegeta grunted in response and opened his own bottle. The women had just returned. It was only a matter of time before they came looking for them, and the screeching began.

As Vegeta predicted, the two women came bustling into the kitchen. "This should hold you for a while, Bulma. You had absolutely nothing left to eat... Gohan, you're a filthy mess!" Chi-Chi exclaimed. "Just look at you. Oh! Your lip is split. Did Vegeta do this to you?" she demanded.

"Mom, we were just sparring-"

"I knew it!" Chi-Chi put her hands on her hips and glowered at Vegeta's back. "This is the last time you two spar! Do you think it's fun to beat up on a five-year-old child, oh mighty Prince of Saiyans?"

Vegeta turned and scowled at her, and she gasped in surprise. "Tell the Namek that the boy needs to work on his left kick."

Bulma winced. "Ouch. _Nice_ shiner you've got there, Veg. Did you do that, Gohan?"

"Yes, but it was an accident. I didn't mean to-"

"Good for you, Sweetie." Bulma ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. What were the odds that he'd be able to blacken Vegeta's eye? She was proud of him!

"Hmph." Vegeta tossed his bottle into the trash and scowled at his mate. "Shouldn't you be in bed doing something that involves silence?" he asked sarcastically.

"Actually, I'm allowed to do certain things again now," Bulma informed him. "Small things for now, and gradually working up to longer periods of time."

A slow smirk spread over Vegeta's face. "So... for what exactly did your physician give you leave?" he asked in a naughty tone.

Bulma blushed. "Not that yet, sorry."

Vegeta's smirk became a frown. "Why not?" he demanded. "The brat is fine! What does she think will happen, that he'll get poked in the eye as well?" he asked sarcastically.

Bulma's blush deepened when she heard Chi-Chi's sputter. "Vegeta!" the raven-haired woman exclaimed. "You certainly think highly of yourself," she retorted.

The smirk returned. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know," Vegeta retorted in return. "In fact, perhaps if you got screwed yourself, you'd have a better reason to be screeching so incessantly as you do."

"Oh!" Chi-Chi blushed and her hands clenched into fists.

"Vegeta!" Bulma complained with a frown. "Gohan is here, for Kami's sake!"

"Eeew!" Gohan wrinkled his nose in distaste. One of the biology books his mother had gotten for him had a section on reproduction and even at the age of five he was a sharp enough child to grasp Vegeta's meaning. He didn't want to think about his mother doing _that._ Nasty!

Vegeta grimaced. "I'm sure as hell not volunteering, Boy."

"Thank Kami," Chi-Chi interjected dryly.

"You, bed," Vegeta commanded of Bulma, pointing toward the bedrooms.

"I told you, Vegeta. I'm not restricted to bed rest anymore," Bulma objected.

"You and Kakarrot's woman procured consumables just now, did you not? I have no intention of or desire to listen to your squawking of fatigue later."

Bulma opened her mouth and closed it again. He was on to her, the perceptive little... "Fine. But I'm hungry. Will you bring me up some lunch please?" She batted her lashes at him flirtatiously.

Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. "Great. First I feed the brat here," he complained, indicating Gohan with a jerk of his thumb the boy's direction, "and now you want me to play nursemaid to _you_ as well."

"Thank you. You're such a sweetheart," Bulma proclaimed with a giggle.

"I am _not_ a sweetheart," the disgruntled Saiyan complained, scowling as she kissed him on the cheek.

"No kidding, you _smell!_" Bulma giggled again. "You'll need to take a shower before you bring me my lunch."

"You're pushing it, Woman," Vegeta growled, but somehow the two Sons didn't get the impression that he was angry.

"I know." Bulma smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, by the way, where did you get the money for breakfast today? I never gave you any."

There was a moment's silence in the kitchen. "I robbed a defenseless old woman," Vegeta responded sarcastically. "What does it matter? Go get in bed before I blast your fat butt there myself-"

"Now wait just a minute, mister. I'm so fat, as you say, because of _you._ If you think I'm going to let you-"

The kitchen door swung closed, shutting out whatever else it was that Bulma was complaining about as Vegeta herded her out of the kitchen.

"I have to say, that was rather rude of him," Chi-Chi commented dryly.

"Well, not really," Gohan responded after some contemplation of his mother's statement. "He was just trying to keep her from getting upset, that's all."

Chi-Chi blinked. "Trying to keep from getting her upset? Well, I don't think he did a very good job of it. He insulted her, Gohan!" she objected.

"Mom, Vegeta took the Ferrari today. Bulma keeps money in the glove box," Gohan told her matter-of-factly. "Which do you think she'd take better, that or being told that she's getting fat by a guy with manners like Vegeta's?"

Chi-Chi's mouth opened then shut again, and to Gohan's surprise she let out a little snort of amusement. "Maybe he's smarter than I took him for," she muttered.

"Oh, yeah," Gohan agreed. "A lot smarter."

As Chi-Chi watched her son sit down at the kitchen table with a snack and open up one of his textbooks, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that had transpired between her son and the prince that day. The boy was swinging his feet and nibbling at a cookie as he worked, without one bit of complaint. There was definitely more to this man than met the eye, and she found herself decidedly curious.

* * *

"What is the matter with you, Woman?" Vegeta scowled as his mate slid under the covers, pointedly ignoring him as she did so. "Fine. Don't blame me because you're tired later-"

"You said I'm fat," Bulma pouted, crossing her arms and deliberately looking away from him, her chin lifted up in an affronted manner.

Vegeta snorted. "Is that all? Of course you're fat, Woman. You are with child. Do not all pregnant females become fat? You're being ridiculous if my observation offends you."

Bulma's lower lip protruded further. "I'm not fat, I'm pregnant. There's a difference," she insisted.

Vegeta let out a sigh. "Fine, fine. You're not fat," he relented.

"Now I suppose you find my body disgusting." Bulma pulled the blankets around her more securely and continued to pout.

Vegeta realized that he was giving her a blank look and shook his head. "Oh yes, Woman. So much so, in fact, that I was irritated when you told me that I couldn't have that disgusting body of yours, remember?"

She blushed. "All right, all right."

"Then what is the problem, Woman? Why are you pouting at me?"

Bulma squirmed a little. "I guess I feel, well, gross right now. I feel fat and nasty."

"Your belly will only become larger as the brat develops, Woman," Vegeta pointed out in a logical manner, "so you had best become accustomed to the idea."

Bulma threw the television remote control at him with a shriek. "You unfeeling ass!" she shouted.

He caught it easily, and a smile of amusement flickered at his lips, which only made her angrier. "Bulma, you are overreacting," he told her, setting the remote down on her nightstand and sitting down on the bed next to her. He turned her resisting chin his way. "I was under the impression that you were desirous of bearing this child. Was I incorrect in this assumption?"

Her attention turned to him immediately and her face softened. "No, of course not," she relented. "I want this baby very much."

"Then, you must be willing to allow these changes to your body, correct?" he pointed out again.

"Of course." Bulma's lips began to quiver. "Oh, Vegeta... I'm such a horrible person," she sobbed. "How could I say such awful things to you when you were only trying to be nice to me and look out for me?"

Vegeta held in a sigh, wondering just how he managed to get into this ridiculous situation. Comforting hormonal females wasn't exactly something he was used to. Nappa and Radditz would be wetting themselves with laughter if they could see the fearsome Prince of all Saiyans now. "You are a pregnant female, unfortunately prone to mood swings," he told her. He cupped her cheek in one hand. "But I would not have taken a horrible woman for my mate. I know all about horrible people, trust me."

Bulma threw her arms around him and clung to him. "I love you, Vegeta," she whimpered, her tears not letting up.

After a moment's hesitation he drew her close to his body. "All right, Bulma. You should quiet yourself now," he managed in a low voice.

She sniffled and wiped at her face with her hand. "O-okay."

"Good. I have no desire to hear any more of these crazy ideas of yours. Is that understood?" He reached up to wipe a tear she had missed away with his finger.

She nodded and gazed up at him, her eyes full of love for this man. Her hand reached up to take his in her own.

Vegeta found himself staring into her soft blue eyes, and for once he didn't care that they were able to enthrall him the way that they did. She was his mate, she carried his offspring, and she was beautiful. Their lips met in a soft, deep kiss. "No more tears," he intoned when they parted. "You are fine. The brat is fine. There is no need to cry, hmm?"

She shook her head, an enamored smile on her face. He cared! He really cared!

"All right then," he told her, releasing her from his grasp and getting up from the bed. "I'll tell Kakarrot's harpy to prepare our lunch."

"Vegeta. Be polite to her, would you?"

A low growl issued from her mate. "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "I will not refer to her as 'Harpy', if that should please you."

"It would, Vegeta. Thank you." Bulma let go of his hand and watched him leave the room. Gods, she loved that man!

Vegeta shut the door behind him and ran a hand over his face. The things he did to please his woman- That did it. He had officially become soft. Damn her! It would have been easier to just tell her he drove the stupid Ferrari.

* * *

"I don't see why it is so _imperative _that I come this time. I hate this place," Vegeta complained, his arms crossed and scowl firmly in place.

Bulma put the car in park and shut off the engine. "It's been two months, or have you forgotten?" She turned to him and grinned broadly, wriggling her eyebrows at him.

"So?" he sulked. That brat Chomei would probably be there, knowing his luck. He didn't know which place was more horrific, the 'Gigantic Wonder World for Tiny Tots' she'd dragged him to or the physician's office for pregnant females and their whiny infant brats. "This had better mean we get to screw today."

"No kidding. You're pretty cranky," Bulma noted.

Vegeta growled when she shot him a wink and blew a kiss at him. "Let's just get this over with, Woman," he complained as he got out of the vehicle.

"Vegeta?"

"What?" He knew very well what.

A pair of arms protruded from the driver's side of the vehicle. "A little help, please?"

At nineteen weeks gestation, Bulma's belly had already ballooned to the point where she looked like she had shoved a basketball beneath her shirt. Vegeta was firmly of the opinion that his woman's increased girth didn't hinder her as much as she liked to act that it did, but he merely let out a little sigh and went around to her side of the car. "First, stick one foot out the door-"

Bulma giggled. At least he was attempting to be a little playful. Or at least she _hoped_ he was, and that he wouldn't just stand there and smirk at her. "For Kami's sake, Vegeta! Just help me out, would you?"

"Hmph. Such a weak creature you are, Woman." Vegeta took one hand and hauled her out of the car. "You need to drive a different vehicle."

"Well, I probably won't be able to drive for much longer anyway," Bulma pointed out. "My belly is starting to get in the way of things." She ran her hands along her pregnant belly and smiled. Now that she seriously looked pregnant and not just 'fat', she was in a better mood.

Vegeta, however, was not. "Come along, Woman," he urged. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can screw."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Can you think of nothing else?" But truth be told, she was looking forward to it as much as he was.

"No." Vegeta ushered her through the heavy glass doors of the vestibule and inside of the building.

Bulma hit the up button for the elevator and waited impatiently. "Come on, hurry up," she muttered, shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

"Quit squirming, Woman," Vegeta murmured. "What is the matter with you?"

"I really need to pee," she murmured back.

Vegeta sighed. "Can't you hold it?"

"Yeah, for a little bit." They stepped onto the elevator.

"Stop squirming, Woman! You are driving me insane!"

"But I have to _pee!_ You try holding it with a baby sitting on your bladder!"

"You're worse than a child with your whimpering."

Amusement twinkled in Bulma's blue eyes. "Just you wait, dearest," she told him matter-of-factly.

Vegeta frowned. "Great," he muttered irritably, crossing his arms.

Bulma giggled as the elevator doors reopened and grabbed his hand. "Come on, it won't be that bad," she told the sulking Saiyan in a soothing voice.

"Are you referring to being here or to the prospect of a whining brat?"

Vegeta's question took her off guard. "I... I meant being here, but..." Her face fell.

"Because I refuse to have a snot-nosed, whiny brat for a son," Vegeta told her in all seriousness. "He will know respect and discipline, I assure you." He opened the office door for her.

A hint of a smile crept back onto Bulma's face. "Don't worry. I'm with you on that one." She went over to the reception area to sign in.

Vegeta was scanning the rather full waiting room for an empty seat when his eyes fell upon a small child who was scribbling in a book with idiotic pictures, obviously designed for children. The boy had a sucker in his mouth, which was sticky from the candy.

"You have got to be joking..."

"What's wrong?" Bulma asked, coming up behind him. "There are two seats right there."

"Hi, Mister!" the boy's voice made the hair on the back of Vegeta's neck stand up. "Mama, it's that man 'gain!"

"Mmm-hmm..." 'Mama' absently hmmed as she leafed through her magazine. "Oh, that looks tasty..."

_Chomei._

:What are the odds that same annoying brat would be here?:

Bulma held in a giggle; Vegeta's mental voice had been practically a whimper. :Just sit down, okay? I'll sit next to him.:

Muttering darkly to himself in some alien language, Vegeta followed his mate to the empty seats and sat down sullenly. :This sucks. I'm never setting foot in this place again, Woman.:

:Quit sulking. If Natsue says it's okay, I'll make it up to you, I promise.: Bulma's hand slid over to his leg and gave it a squeeze.

The look he gave her positively smoldered. :You've got that right, Woman.:

Bulma shifted in her seat.

:Quit the wriggling already, Woman! You're going to make _me_ pee!:

Bulma's giggle floated over to him mentally. :You're adorable, you know that? I never thought I'd hear you use the word 'pee'.:

:All right, I'm leaving-:

Bulma's hand caught his before he could get up. "Please?" she whispered.

He looked away from the beautiful blue eyes pleading with him. "Fine."

"Hey Mister!"

Vegeta groaned and slouched back in his chair, muttering something about Kami-damned brats and their retarded mothers.

"Hi there, kiddo," Bulma interjected before anything embarrassing could happen. "What's your name?"

"I'm Chomei!" the boy exclaimed.

"It's nice to meet you, Chomei," Bulma said politely. "I see you have a coloring book."

"Uh-huh," the boy confirmed, almost flinging the book at her. "See? I maded a picture!"

"Oh, look how pretty your pony is," Bulma told the boy, shooting Vegeta a look of amusement. Vegeta may have been acting like he wasn't paying any attention, but after having lived with the man for over four months, she could tell otherwise. "Doesn't Chomei's picture look pretty, Vegeta?"

:Woman-:

:Don't even start. This is just the sort of thing you should expect of our son at this age,: Bulma interrupted testily. :Consider it to be practice. Now, be nice to him, or else.: Her tone made it clear exactly what 'or else' referred to.

:I cannot believe you would even attempt to blackmail me like that. You know you want it even more than I do,: Vegeta replied haughtily.

:Please.:

Vegeta held in a sigh and inspected the coloring book with a critical eye. "It looks like an animal called a skorlind that lives on the planet Asuna," he remarked emotionlessly.

"Really?" Chomei squealed excitedly.

"Mmm-hmm. They are also green."

"Really? I like green horsies!"

"Yes, really. Except they have horns and their manes and tails are different." Vegeta still didn't know why he was telling the little brat any of this.

"Will you show me, Mister? Pleeease?" Chomei held out a chewed up crayon.

Bulma was smiling at him, her eyes shining. All right, all right. He _did_ know why he was acknowledging the boy.

Vegeta hesitated for a moment, then took the crayon and the coloring book. His hand moved across the page as he drew in the differences between the pony and the skorlind.

"I wanna see! Can I see?" Chomei slid down from his seat and toddled over to Vegeta's chair.

"Don't wander off too far, precious," 'Mama' said absently as she tore a page from the magazine she was reading.

Vegeta looked up from his masterpiece when he felt two little hands on his leg as Chomei stood on his tip-toes in an effort to see what he had drawn. "Here," he told the boy, thrusting the coloring book and the crayon back. The unfamiliar feeling that had suddenly crept through him made him uncomfortable.

"Fanks, Mister!" the boy squealed in delight as he grabbed his things and toddled back over to his mother. "Lookie, Mama! Lookie at what the man drawed for me!"

"Oh, how nice of him," 'Mama continued in the same absent tone as she tore another page from the magazine and stuffed it into her purse. Rather than look at either her son or the coloring book, she went right back to her magazine.

Vegeta couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the child, who forlornly climbed back into his seat beside his mother and began to color again with a tiny sigh. It was obvious that the woman wasn't going to pay any attention to him.

Suddenly, he remembered.

He remembered just how much it hurt, knowing that his own parents had been too busy for him, too busy to pay even five minutes' worth of attention to a spirited little boy with a million and one things to ask or tell. So, he'd gone off and done mischievous, even downright naughty things which had gotten him in trouble. _That_ had gotten his father's attention, for certain.

"Mrs. Tanizaki?"

'Mama' hauled her very pregnant self from her seat. "Come along, Chomei. It's Mama's turn now."

"Okay." The boy slid back down to the floor and followed his mother. "Bye-bye, Mister! Fanks!"

Vegeta nodded to the child awkwardly. He saw the boy in a different light now. Chomei had candy, toys, and a coloring book, but he didn't have what he actually _needed-_ a positive adult influence, someone to pay attention to him.

Someone to care about him.

/_Go annoy Nappa, Brat. He will keep you suitably entertained./_

_/But, Father, I just wanted to-/_

_/Vegeta, I am busy with more important things than whatever it is you have there. I am trying to run a kingdom here. You should stop wasting time and start paying attention so that you are able to effectively do so when you are king. Now, if you cannot be quiet, go elsewhere!/_

_Vegeta's shoulders fell and his eyes dropped to the floor. /Yes, Father. I am sorry I bothered you./ His father said nothing in return but only went back to the document he'd been perusing. It had gotten worse since his mother had mysteriously died. At least she had smiled at him and called him 'my son', and she'd sounded proud when she'd said it._

"I'm proud of you, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, squeezing his hand. "That was a very nice thing you did for that little boy."

Her voice snapped him back to reality. :I'm not nice,: Vegeta contradicted her, retrieving his hand.

Bulma ignored his rebuttal. :You couldn't have missed how _happy_ you made him, Veg. And he wasn't even a little brat, like you said he was last time.:

:Close enough.: Vegeta could still feel the boy's warm little hands on his knee, see the excitement and eager expectation shining in his large brown eyes... and the disappointment in them later when his mother ignored him.

:Just one thing, though. I think his mother will have a conniption when she sees that picture.:

:She won't.:

:She won't? How do you know?:

:Didn't you notice the woman? Trust me.:

Did she detect a hint of bitterness in Vegeta's voice? :Yes, I noticed her. What of her?:

Vegeta shook his head in exasperation. :She didn't pay attention to the boy now. Why would she later?: He could feel her sudden jolt of surprise at realizing what he meant, and the surge of pity that followed it.

:I'm sorry, Sweetie.:

:I am _not_ sweet!:

:Well, actually I'm forced to agree with you there.: Now it was her turn to sense his surprise, and she let out a little mental giggle. :You didn't _have_ to make the pony anatomically correct, you know.:

:Well,: Vegeta echoed her, :perhaps now his mother will pay attention to what he does.:

* * *

The waiting room door opened and again, Natsue emerged, beckoning as she had before.

Vegeta let out a resigned sigh. "This had better be news I want to hear," he grumbled as he made his way over to the waiting doctor.

Natsue smiled broadly. "Congratulations, it's a boy!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he passed through the door; the stupid females in the waiting room were congratulating him, and a couple even clapped. "You're crazy, Woman."

Natsue laughed; Vegeta's cheeks had gone a little pink. "Don't worry, I won't keep you long. I just have a few things to go over with you two before I send you off." She knocked on the door of one of the examination rooms. "You decent in there, Bulma?"

"Yes, come on in."

Natsue opened the door and indicated that he should go inside. "Okay kids, today's ultrasound looked great. Your son appears to be perfectly strong, healthy and well formed. That being the case, Bulma, I am lifting the physical restrictions I imposed upon you, with the exception of common sense things like heavy lifting, strenuous exercise, and anything else that could injure you or seriously tire you out."

"Oh, that's _wonderful_ news," Bulma said with a sigh of relief. She squeezed Vegeta's thigh playfully. "Don't you think so, Veg?" she asked, a hint of the promise of something to come coloring her voice.

Vegeta had been a little surprised that the women hadn't even attempted to involve him in the ultrasound Bulma had had that day, but the thought slipped his mind when the words 'I am lifting the physical restrictions I imposed upon you' passed Natsue's lips. A smirk curled up on his lips. "Yes, _very_ good news indeed," he purred, the smirk widening to a toothy grin.

Natsue shook her head and chuckled. "Yes, yes. You can do _that_ again, too," she confirmed. "I guess I know what you two will be doing when you get home."

"Why wait?" Vegeta continued in the same throaty voice. His eyes roved over his mate's body, and he had to restrain himself from licking his lips.

"Whoa, whoa, settle down there, studmuffin," Natsue objected. "Not in my office, got it?"

Bulma blushed brightly and Vegeta let out a deep throated growl, but neither said anything in objection.

"Okay," Natsue continued casually as Vegeta continued to undress Bulma with his eyes. "Be careful about what you eat, no long days, et cetera, et cetera. Oh, and Vegeta? Go easy on her. I have a feeling that's not in the nature of a man who growls and thinks about nothing but sex, but you'll have to make an effort. You can do it." She grinned when he scowled and shifted in his seat.

"Whatever, Woman. May we leave now?" Vegeta asked, sarcasm coloring his voice.

"Yes, go. See you at your next checkup, Bulma." A slow smile slid across her lips. "You too, Vegeta."

"Doubtful," Vegeta contradicted, rising from his seat. "Let's _go,_ Woman."

"Wait, one more thing first," Bulma interjected. "I still _really_ have to pee."

* * *

Vegeta shot straight up in bed, a sheen of sweat covering his body. His heart was thumping wildly and he was breathing heavily. He realized he was clutching the covers tightly and dropped them. Fortunately Bulma was still asleep. How would he explain to her why he was sweaty and trembling? He couldn't possibly tell her that another horrific dream had awoken him again. He had them now and then and had grudgingly accepted that fact, but lately they had become more and more frequent, and he was at a loss as to why.

He got out of the bed and stepped out onto the balcony, watching big puffy snowflakes flutter down in the areas of the grounds which were illuminated by the security lights. He was forced to grudgingly agree with Bulma when she said that the snow was beautiful- as long as he didn't have to go out in it, that is.

His ki flared up around him, emitting an eerie blue glow that retained the warmth of his body. He stared at the lifeless GR. He hadn't used it the past day, but he'd had good reason not to. A naughty smile crept up on his lips. Oh yes. He'd had a very good reason. Perhaps that was why his woman slept so soundly. But seeing as _he_ wouldn't be getting any more sleep, there was no reason he couldn't start his training a little early, which would help make up for lost time.

Deep in thought as he was, Vegeta didn't notice Bulma approach until the balcony door opened again and she stepped outside. He couldn't help but feel irritated by the fact that this woman was quite frequently able to do that, despite him being perfectly able to detect ki without the aid of a scouter.

"Hey," she intoned softly, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "What are you doing out here in the cold at four thirty in the morning?"

Vegeta turned his head to look at her. "I could ask the same of you, Woman," he countered, tsking when she shivered behind him despite his warmth.

"I woke up and had to go to the bathroom, and it's cold and lonely without you," Bulma told him, leaving his back to sidle up to his chest and snuggle her face against him.

"Hmph." Vegeta curled an arm around his shivering mate and extended his ki to warm her as well. "Silly female," he murmured. "You should go back to bed."

"I will." She turned her face up to him, her sleepy blue eyes reflecting the light of his ki. "Come back to bed, Vegeta, just for a little while. I know what you plan to do," she continued, placing a finger atop his lips to catch his objections, "but stay with me for just a little longer first." Her hands ran up his chest, her fingertips caressing his bare skin as they traveled.

Vegeta shivered despite himself. "Accursed woman," he muttered darkly.

Bulma, however, would have none of it and pulled his face down to kiss him. The kiss quickly became heated, hands traveled across warm bodies, and they staggered back into the room and onto the bed.

"You were right," Vegeta told her as he removed his sleep pants.

Bulma blinked in surprise. "I was? About what?"

"About the brat starting to get in the way. But I'll just work around this little obstacle you've created, Woman," Vegeta responded saucily, poking her distended belly gently before laying her back on the bed.

Bulma giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Hey, buster! You had just as much a share in the creation of this little obstacle to your passion- oh!"

Vegeta pulled away when she gasped and tensed slightly. Had he harmed her or the child again? "What is it, Bulma?" he asked, trying to sound unconcerned that anything might be amiss. "What is the matter with you?"

"He... he moved," Bulma responded softly, an expression of awe on her face.

"What?"

She rested her hands atop her naked belly. "The baby. I felt him move for the first time just now." She smiled angelically.

Vegeta sat up so he knelt beside her. He had no idea what to say.

His mate had felt the unborn child move, indisputable evidence of what his mind still partially didn't want to believe. He was a father. The knowledge was overwhelming to him. A father. He was not panicking. How ridiculous!

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked softly.

"Hmm?" He turned his head to look at her.

Bulma took his hand and placed it on her belly where she'd felt the baby kick. It was far too soon for anyone else to be able to feel, but with his heightened senses, maybe Vegeta would be able to. "If you wait a minute, maybe he'll move again."

_Weak... she's making me weak..._ "No, I... no." Vegeta pulled his hand away and backed off. "I have to train."

Bulma's face fell as he moved off of the bed and put on some training shorts. "But..."

"I have to train," Vegeta repeated, a little crisply this time. "Go back to sleep, Woman." He opened the balcony door and went out, shutting it behind himself.

Bulma sat up in bed, completely confused about what had just happened. He had been more than ready to put off his training to make love, so she knew he hadn't left simply for the time factor. She'd thought he was becoming more comfortable with the thought of being a father, so why had he panicked and left when the baby had moved? Why hadn't he wanted to share such an important and special thing with her? She wiped a tear from her cheek and curled up on her side, clutching his pillow against her body.

Was he going to reject their son when he was born? Would he leave them both? Bulma didn't even want to consider either possibility as an option. It had to be something else. He had panicked; maybe he was just nervous about being a father. Yes, that was it. Just nerves. Vegeta would never admit to something like that.

It suddenly occurred to her that he had seemed agitated when she'd approached him on the balcony. Maybe he'd had a bad dream. She'd woken up on more than one occasion when he'd been growling and twitching in his sleep. He'd all but snapped her hand off once when she'd tried to shake him awake, so she'd wised up and just stroked his hair until he calmed down after that. Maybe that was it. He'd be horrified if he knew she knew he had bad dreams. She sniffled and wiped at her face again. Maybe she could get him to talk about it later.

* * *

Bulma shuffled into the kitchen to see her mate heading for the side door. "Vegeta, wait!" she called after him. "Please, don't go!"

Vegeta paused and shut the door with a sigh. "Look, Woman-"

"Vegeta, please come back and finish your food," she pleaded.

He just stared at her wordlessly for a moment before reluctantly returning to the counter where he'd abandoned a half eaten bowl of cereal.

Bulma held in a sigh of relief. "I'm not upset about what happened earlier," she said softly. "In fact, I'm a little scared. I've never done this before either. But I feel better with you here with me." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

Again he hesitated before putting his arms around her. She heard him let out the tiniest of sighs. Maybe that was all that needed to be said. She didn't want to distance herself from him.

_I love you, Vegeta. I wish you'd let me show you that._

* * *

Vegeta held his mate in his arms and watched her as she slept. When it had started getting colder outside she had been spooning herself up against him at night, and since her belly had made a sudden growth spurt, she'd taken to lying on her side and using his body as a sort of makeshift pillow. At first the constant close contact had been an annoyance, but he'd grown to actually enjoy holding her in his arms, her soft blue hair tickling his naked chest, her breath warm on his shoulder. Her hair smelled like a combination of a fruit she'd called a kiwi and of strawberries, and he found he liked the scent.

He shifted the arm beneath her to hold her a little more comfortably. She inhaled deeply and snuggled up closer against him but didn't wake up. A thought drifted through his mind- what had he done to make the gods overlook his past and grace him with this beautiful, sensual woman, a woman who openly showed him affection and wanted to be with him, including in an intimate way? He had never encountered a woman who gazed at him with affection and desire in her eyes, who touched him so tenderly as she did, who actually coaxed him into her bed and demanded that he take her. He'd never encountered a woman who made the unfamiliar feelings she evoked in him come forth.

He'd never encountered a woman who made him feel like the greatest man in existence, a woman who made him feel that he was someone worthwhile, that he could be more than he was. That he could be a _better_ man. That things didn't have to be the way they'd always been to him.

She'd told him that she loved him on numerous occasions, and while he couldn't fully grasp the emotion himself, he believed her when she said it. Why else would she behave the way she did, and forgive him for the selfish, irritating, and sometimes even cruel things he said and did at times? He had to admit that, just like her oftentimes closeness, he'd grown fond of hearing her say it. It was reassuring in a way. Absolutely no one had ever openly claimed to care for him, not even his own mother. No female had ever tried to please him because wanting to do so was pleasing to themselves, and actually mean it. They had done what they had out of self-preservation or out of obligation, out of duty. This woman wanted him, craved him. She was ecstatic over the fact that she carried the child they had created together in their passion. It was a good feeling.

He smoothed an errant piece of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. It was so silky and soft, and although he'd never confess to it, he loved the feel of it, to run his fingers through it. Before he could move his hand away, she smiled in her sleep and nuzzled her face against his palm.

"Hmmm... Vegeta," she sighed softly. She stretched against him, and her top knee brushed along his leg. Her smile widened, and her fingertips briefly caressed his chest in a way she touched him at times when she attempted to arouse him. It generally worked, too.

So, she was dreaming of him, and obviously in an intimate manner. The idea of it was quite flattering, not to mention arousing, to him. He was contemplating acting on the urges his body was demanding when he felt it.

Vegeta started slightly and his eyes widened when he realized what his superior sense of touch had detected. It was the tiny flutter of life that Bulma had felt previously, the movement of the unborn child within her womb. At this stage of gestation, while it would be too soon for others to feel the child's movements, the baby would be large enough and developed enough that the mother would feel it. Bulma had been so excited when she'd told her parents the next morning, but had almost seemed a little sad at the same time. Had it been wrong of him to pull away when she'd attempted to place his hand on her swollen belly on the chance that he might feel their unborn child if it moved again? Another emotion, that of guilt, touched him; it was one he rarely felt and did _not_ like. She had only wanted to share the experience with him. He had been selfish, and had made her sad.

He carefully shifted his sleeping mate and gingerly placed his hand on her belly at the spot where he'd felt the baby move. He waited until he felt it again. There it was. The tiniest of flutterings from within Bulma's womb. He moved his hand a little. The flutter moved slightly in that direction, startling him again. The child wasn't _that_ big yet- in his opinion anyway, since Bulma had thrust her latest ultrasound pictures at him and demanded that he examine them- and wasn't fully developed. It couldn't have truly followed him, could it? He felt out for the child's ki, again surprised by what he felt.

Awareness. Familiarity. Recognition of _him_ individually. The child already differentiated his father's ki!It was almost unnerving.

"Vegeta?" a soft voice asked.

Vegeta looked at Bulma to see her blue eyes open and gazing at him with a combination of sleepiness and fondness. She had caught him with his hand on her belly in order to feel the child's movements. Embarrassed, he tried to move his hand away but this time she covered it with her own, holding it there.

"Please don't," she whispered. "I want to share this with _you_ first before everyone else starts putting their hands on my belly so they can feel _our_ son kick."

He relaxed and let his hand rest upon her belly again, unable to disappoint her further. "All right, Woman. Desist with the fretting."

Bulma knew he wasn't angry at her. His telling her to settle down was just a cover up way of appeasing her. She smiled and snuggled back against him.

They lay together in silence for a moment. Her hand stroked back and forth along his.

"Oh!" Bulma let out a little giggle. "Could you feel that? He moved right beneath your hand. You couldn't have placed it any more perfectly."

"Yes, I felt it," Vegeta confirmed. "It was a tiny disturbance." He slid his hand a short distance over her belly to test his theory that the unborn brat was indeed following his hand.

Bulma hadn't thought to compare the feeling to a disturbance, but she could understand how he meant his words. It hadn't been a full-blown kick or wriggle, but more like a little ripple. It made her think of ripples created on the surface of a body of water that had been struck by even a small pebble. She nodded in agreement. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess it's a fair comparison. To me, it kind of feels like having intestinal gas." She giggled at the disgusted expression on his face. "What?"

"Intestinal gas, pah."

"Let me guess- His Royal Highness _never_ farts," Bulma teased good-naturedly.

He scowled at her. "No, of course not!"

She giggled again. "Oh, I don't know about that," she contradicted him playfully. "I wasn't the one who stank up the bed in my sleep a few nights ago."

"What!?" Mrs. Briefs had made bean soup for dinner on the night in question. While the Saiyan prince had thought it to be quite tasty, he had vowed never to eat the stuff again after the negative reaction it had given him.

Bulma continued to giggle at her embarrassed mate and turned in his arms to face him. "Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport," she told him, capturing his face between her hands and kissing him.

Vegeta's growl of irritation soon became one of desire, his ruffled sensibilities quickly forgotten as he acted on his earlier urges.

* * *

Bulma was in the kitchen fixing herself some breakfast when the door opened and Dende came in. "Good morning, Bulma! Guess what?"

She couldn't help but smile at the boy's enthusiasm. "Good morning to you too, Dende. What's up?"

"We've been keeping track of the days, and it's been a Namekian year since we last used our dragonballs," Dende told her. "In fact, it's even a few days past."

Bulma quickly did the math in her head. "You're right," she agreed. "Did you manage to find all of the dragonballs yet?" If they had, they could wish Goku and the others back!

Dende nodded. "Gohan called and said that Piccolo found the last one yesterday. The dragonball radar you loaned him was a big help." He paused. "Do you think we could summon Porunga today?"

"Dende, how wonderful! Of course we can," Bulma told him. "Why don't you go ahead and call Gohan back, and tell him to round everyone up here. Let's say about lunchtime. How does that sound?"

"Great! I'll go call Gohan right away!" The little Namek scampered off for the den to tell the others.

Bulma smiled. He was such a nice boy. She placed a hand over her belly and couldn't help but wonder what her little boy would be like. No doubt he'd be strong, powerful and handsome like his father, but as far as disposition went, only time would tell.

It wasn't long before Chi-Chi showed up with her father, her son, and her favorite frying pan. "We're going to have to start cooking right away if we're going to feed three Saiyans and everyone else," she informed Bulma matter-of-factly.

Bulma hugged her friend tightly. "I'm so excited for you, Chi," she whispered. "It'll be wonderful to have him home again."

Chi-Chi hugged her back. "Thanks, Bulma." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Now, let's cook," she decided in a sterner tone.

* * *

Bulma knocked on the GR's door and waited. Momentarily the door opened, and Vegeta stood scowling at her. "What now, Woman?"

He wasn't angry at her, just irritated by his training being interrupted. "Chi-Chi is here with Gohan and her father," Bulma explained. "Puar, Oolong, Master Roshi and Piccolo are here, too."

"I know," Vegeta responded a little irritably. "Why would you interrupt my training to tell me that?"

"Because it's been better than 130 days, and we finally have all seven Namekian dragonballs." Bulma looked up at him, waiting to see what he'd do.

Vegeta's eyebrow rose sharply. "They intend to summon the dragon?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He knew what that meant. They would have Porunga resurrect his sworn enemy. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"All right." Bulma smiled softly.

She was wearing a thick goose down coat with a large hood, which she'd pulled over her head until only her face showed. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and several disobedient strands of hair escaped from beneath it. Her blue eyes shone up at him with pleasure.

She was beautiful. She was a weakness. _His_ damn weakness. He turned and headed for the shower. What was he going to do about her?

* * *

The huge dragon loomed overhead menacingly, growling softly.

"Now, that's a dragon!" Master Roshi commented.

"Oh, my! Dear me!" Dr. Briefs exclaimed. There were various exclamations from others in the group, many of whom had never seen Porunga before. In fact, no one on the planet had, except those of the small group gathered at Capsule Corp who had chanced to see him while on Namek. The suggestion had been made that Dr. Briefs tell the authorities that he would be conducting some weird experiments with holograms and weather manipulation, and that people shouldn't worry if they saw a huge dragon looming over Capsule Corp or if the sky grew dark.

The dragon was huge, all right, and the sky did indeed turn dark.

"You who have summoned me, I will now grant you three wishes," Porunga announced. "Now, proceed with your wishes."

"Go ahead, my friends," Moori told Bulma when he noticed their hesitation to make a wish. "We can wait another 130 days to start our new life. Besides, I think I can improve my putt."

"It's all in the wrist," Gohan offered, "and the follow through."

"Let's do it then!" Bulma agreed excitedly. She glanced over at Vegeta, who merely scowled at her. No amount of nagging from her would persuade him to join their group. _Fine. Let him fester by himself._ She stuck her tongue out at him before returning her attention to the dragon. "Please bring Goku and Krillin to Earth's check-in station in the spirit realm."

Dende translated her wish into the Namekian tongue.

"All right, just a sec." The dragon's eyes glowed red as he prepared to grant the wish. The small group watched anxiously. Would it really work? "The one called Krillin is at the Earth's check-in station." They gasped in excitement. "But, the one called Goku cannot be brought to that place."

"What?" Bulma exclaimed. "Why not?"

"Because he is alive," Porunga explained. "If I moved him there now, he would die."

"Dad's really still alive? But how?" Gohan breathed, voicing all of their sentiments.

Vegeta digested what the dragon was saying, a scowl on his face. What was that third-class clown doing by staying away?

Everyone cheered- Goku was alive! But Bulma's celebration was short-lived when it hit her. "If Goku's alive, why hasn't he come back yet?" she wondered aloud.

"Well, maybe his ship's broken," Gohan offered. "Yeah, I'll bet he's stuck."

"Hey people, let's move it. What's your next wish?" Porunga interrupted impatiently.

"Hey, sorry. You're cute. I like you," Bulma told the dragon with a wink, inwardly pleased when Porunga actually began to sweat a little. Maybe it would even make Vegeta a little jealous!

Vegeta scowled. _Stupid flirtatious woman. And on the subject of stupid, as for Kakarrot, he's probably off exploring or something equally idiotic._

"My friends," Moori interjected, "he's alive, right? So just wish him back here."

"Good idea. Now, the next wish," Bulma decided, agreeing with the old Namek. "Bring Goku back to Earth!"

Dende translated the wish, and the small group of friends cheered in excitement. Goku would be home soon!

"Silence!" the huge dragon commanded, effectively quieting the celebrating group. "It can't be done. The one called Goku refuses to return and says he'll come back later."

"What?" asked Gohan in a trembling voice. "But why? Why doesn't Dad want to come back?"

"Your dad told Porunga he'd come back later," Piccolo reminded the distraught boy. "Don't worry, Gohan. He'll keep his word."

Vegeta stared at the dragon in dumbfounded silence, then scowled. _Kakarrot, what are you up to? You're probably training on another planet somewhere, perfecting your skills while I'm wasting my time with these _idiots! _If that stupid third-class fool won't come back, I'll bring him back myself!_

To do that, Vegeta would need a ship. He looked over at the GR. Certainly it must still be functional as a spacecraft; neither Bulma or the old man had told him otherwise. It probably had no fuel, though, he thought irritably. He'd broken the GR enough times that they wouldn't risk it exploding.

Where would the old man keep the other ships he had? His GR wouldn't have been constructed using Capsule _Three_ if there were no other ships- ah, that was it! The old man had mentioned at breakfast the other day his intention to conduct a minor repair on another of the ships that day. Vegeta slipped away from the group, a plan forming in his head as he headed for the lab.

"Look, Goku will be back. He said so," Piccolo reiterated. "Let's use the remaining two wishes to bring Krillin and one of the others back instead."

Despite their disappointment in Goku's decision, there was general consensus amongst the group.

"All right," Bulma announced. She was really getting into this! "Let's bring Krillin back to life!"

Everyone cheered as Dende again translated Bulma's wish. Porunga's eyes flashed red, and a dumbfounded Krillin appeared before them.

"Wha- huh?"

"Welcome back, partner," Gohan said softly.

"Wait a minute. I'm back alive!" Krillin smiled brightly as everyone continued to cheer.

"Krillin!" Bulma exclaimed, hugging her disoriented friend tightly. "Oh, it's so good to have you back!"

"Yeah, thanks..."

"Hey, what's wrong?" As soon as the question had passed her lips, Bulma suddenly realized that the little monk wasn't just disoriented; he was shocked by the discovery that no, she wasn't just wearing a bulky coat when she'd hugged him.

"Bulma, you're... you're..." Yamcha was dead. He wasn't aware of her dating anyone else, and based on the size of her, his friend was several months pregnant. But who could she have been with several months ago? Suddenly it struck him just who she _had_ been with- on Namek. "Oh boy..."

She bit her lip nervously. "Krillin, please don't make a big deal out of this-"

"You're pregnant," he mumbled dumbly. "Is it..."

"Yes, and I'm _happy_ about it," Bulma whispered. "He was a little stunned at first, but he's okay with it, really."

Krillin nearly gaped at her. When he'd told her to take one for the team, he certainly hadn't had this in mind. "You're saying that this baby's father really is..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. After all, the individual he had in mind what a psychotic mass murderer. But Bulma had said she was happy about the baby. They weren't truly referring to the same person, were they?"

Bulma sighed and turned around to face where her mate had been standing off by himself. She frowned when she discovered that not only was he no longer there, but she didn't see him anywhere. "Hey, Mom? You didn't happen to see where Vegeta went, did you?" She ignored the little noise that came from Krillin upon confirmation of the child's paternity.

"No, sorry. I didn't," Mrs. Briefs answered with a shake of her head. "He's such a dear young man."

Bulma frowned. Where would Vegeta have gone off to? The GR wasn't active, so he wasn't training. And for that matter, why would he leave? All that they had been told was that Goku was alive and wasn't... coming... home...

Oh, no. He wouldn't. He just couldn't!

As if on cue, a loud blasting sound was heard in the distance, startling them all, and shortly thereafter Capsule Four was seen ascending into the sky.

"Isn't that your space ship, Darling?" Mrs. Briefs asked airily.

"Well, it was," Dr. Briefs conceded as he watched the pod blasting off.

"No!" Bulma screamed at the rapidly rising spacecraft. "Vegeta, what in the hell do you think you're doing? Where are you going?"

"Dear, I don't think he can hear you," Mrs. Briefs noted. "It's far too noisy."

Bulma ignored the foolishness of her mother's inane observation. "He doesn't need to," she retorted. "He knows exactly what I'm saying. You can't just leave me like this!" she shouted after the ship, which by now was little more than a rapidly disappearing dot in the sky. She dropped to her knees in the snow. "You can't leave me like this," she whispered. A tear trickled down her cheek and she stared down at her hands in despair.

There was silence for a moment save Bulma's sniffling. It seemed that no one quite knew what to say to the blue-haired woman kneeling in the snow. Chi-Chi approached her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bulma, I-"

"Damn you, Vegeta!" Bulma screamed into the sky. "You selfish bastard!" The worst part of it was the remembrance of the incredible night they had shared. Vegeta had shown an active interest in their unborn son, or had seemed to, anyway. He had been so gentle and tender with her. How could he have been so passionate one minute and leave her the next without so much as even a word of explanation?

Piccolo merely shrugged as if he had expected nothing less from the prince. "Forget about him," he recommended to the sniffling woman. "He's gone. No big loss-"

Never had a pregnant woman gotten to her feet and across the yard so quickly. Bulma grabbed the startled Namek's shirt in both fists and got right up in his face. "What do you mean, 'forget about him'?" she screamed. "'No big loss'? Look at me! For the love of Kami, how _did_ you think I would react to that statement?"

"I-"

"Shut up!" Bulma continued, shaking the much bigger man by the material wadded up in her little fists. "Where's your frying pan, Chi-Chi? I'm going to give you a preview of the ass kicking Vegeta's going to get when he gets back!" she roared.

"Great Kami, this is hot!" Master Roshi exclaimed. The old pervert grinned from ear to ear.

"Yeah, smack him around good, Bulma!" Oolong added gleefully. He wasn't smiling long, though, before a snowball hit him smack in the snout.

"All of you just shut up!" Bulma yelled, her face red with anger. "This is none of any of your business!"

Mrs. Briefs came over to her daughter and put an arm around her shoulders. "Now now, my dearest girl," she soothed, placing a kiss on Bulma's forehead. "It'll be all right, I promise. You know that man doesn't do anything without a reason. He'll be back, you'll see."

Bulma's rage had subsided somewhat under her mother's loving touch. "How do you know that, Mom?"

Mrs. Briefs smiled and drew her daughter aside. "Bulma, you'd be surprised. Things like how he spoke so proudly about '_my_ son' without even realizing it, and the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking."

A faint blush spread across Bulma's cheeks. "Oh, really Mom! I doubt that," she objected, but the knowing look on her mother's face spoke volumes.

"Really." Mrs. Briefs smoothed a strand of hair away from Bulma's face. "Trust me, Dear."

Bulma sighed. Maybe her mother was right. She was doubtful that the Saiyan prince was capable of faking the way he had been acting toward her, especially in the past few days. He certainly had to have some reason to leave so abruptly. Finding out Goku was alive combined with anxiety over becoming a father just might have done the trick. "Okay, Mom." She turned and rounded on the three men she had castigated earlier. "As for you three-"

A loud rumble cut her off and they all looked up at Porunga, who had cleared his throat. "Can we get on with this today?" the mildly amused dragon asked.

* * *

Vegeta gasped for breath and clutched the small nightstand next to his bed as another pain ripped through his belly. He gritted his teeth, growling low in his throat until the pain finally passed. /What the devil could this be? It's not as though I could have become ill alone in the middle of space,/ he muttered to himself. /Saiyans don't _get_ sick!/ Even if that weren't the case, there was no one around who could have infected him. He'd been eating the same type of non-perishable foods for weeks; it wasn't as though he'd eaten something bad.

Finally! The abdominal pains had stopped. Vegeta let himself fall back down onto the mattress with a sigh and mopped at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He felt like his lower body had been torn in two. Whatever the hell had just happened to him that day, and more specifically the past few hours, he _never_ wanted to go through that again.

Speaking of going through unpleasant things, he was really going to make Kakarrot's death long and painful when he finally found him. He'd been on one wild goose chase after another, and the only good that had come of it was that he'd found an outpost of Frieza's that he hadn't known existed. He'd decimated the entire base and questioned the commander there before snapping his miserable neck along with the others. The commander hadn't been very forthcoming, but then again Vegeta hadn't expected anything to the contrary. He had, however, downloaded the entire contents of the base's computer onto Capsule Four's computer before completely destroying the small moon it had been on upon his departure. Upon a brief inspection of the technical data he'd just stolen, he determined that his woman would be quite pleased with his findings.

Oh, right. His woman. Yes...

Vegeta had left Earth a good four months ago. No doubt she would be displeased with him when he got back. No matter; she would have to learn her place and get over it. He growled, knowing what an idiotic thing to be thinking that was. Not only had he not become a Super Saiyan since he'd come to Earth, but he had done nothing but think of her since he left it!

Suddenly feeling quite melancholy and extremely tired, Vegeta kicked off his boots and crawled beneath the bed covers.

* * *

"Say hello to the newest Briefs," Natsue told her patient softly.

Bulma, tired and sweaty but happy, reached out for the squalling bundle Natsue placed on her belly. "Oh... he- he's beautiful," she sniffled, taking one tiny hand in between her index finger and thumb. She let out a little noise halfway between a giggle and a sob when the squalling stopped and his tiny fingers gripped hers tightly, and did begin to sob when the baby's furry tail wrapped itself around her wrist. "My baby," she managed through her tears. "He's perfect!"

Natsue smiled at the sight before her. Like many new mothers, Bulma was busy counting her newborn son's fingers and toes, and examining every inch of him that otherwise remained. "He _is_ a beautiful child," she agreed. "Did I not tell you that you two would make a beautiful baby?" She chuckled. "And just look at all of that hair! You've got a whole head full of it, little mister."

Bulma's face fell and she grew quiet. "Yeah."

Natsue dismissed her assistant and quietly asked Mrs. Briefs, who was eager to see her grandson but had prudently stayed back for the moment, to give them a moment in private. "I'm sorry, Bulma," she told her friend sincerely. "I'm sure he had a good reason to go."

Bulma was crying inconsolably. "N-Natsue, all I wanted was for him to be here for me and our baby," she hiccupped. "Things were going so well between us, but he takes off without so much as a goodbye as soon as he hears that Goku is still alive out there somewhere."

"This may not be what you wanted to hear, but well, there you go. He wanted to find Goku," Natsue pointed out. "He must have had something important to discuss with him if he would just up and leave the way you said he did, don't you think?"

Bulma began to cry even harder. "Aren't I important? Isn't our baby important?"

"Of course you are," Natsue assured her. "He left you in capable hands, didn't he? From what I hear from you and others, it sounds to me like he's a nervous father with some issues to work out. He'll be back, B. Don't worry. For now, you enjoy being a mommy. A certain somebody who's completely reliant on you needs you right now."

"You're right, Natsue. Thanks." Although Bulma didn't find the topic of conversation to be the most comforting one, happy thoughts of her new son quickly drove away her sad thoughts, replacing them with the love that can only be had between a mother and her child. "Hello there, Sweetpea," she whispered. "I'm your mommy. Yes, I am," she cooed in that nonsensical babble so many people tend to use with very young babies.

There was a knock at the door, and Natsue went to answer it. "It seems as though you have a whole room full of friends and family waiting to see your little one," she reported. "Would you like to get some rest first?"

Bulma _was_ exhausted but thought she could manage a few minutes' visit. "Nah, they can come in for a little bit."

Before she knew it, the room was full of people wishing her well and fawning over the new baby.

"Aww, he's so cute, Bulma," Gohan told her admiringly. "He looks just like-"

Bulma managed a smile when the boy paused awkwardly. "It's okay, Gohan. You're right, he looks almost exactly like his daddy."

"Except for those big blue eyes of his. At least he looks a little like his mommy. It would be a shame if he didn't."

Bulma turned her head. Yamcha stood nearby, looking happy for her but a little sad at the same time. "Hey, Yamcha," she whispered, feeling her eyes fill with tears when he approached and took her hand gently. Yamcha had been shocked and even a little hurt when they had raised him right after bringing back Krillin, only to find his once girlfriend pregnant with the child of the man who had been the indirect cause of his death. He'd been angry that Vegeta had left her, and even a little guilty when he saw her sadness; he knew he hadn't always been the best boyfriend at times and had, too, caused her some grief in the past. He had resolved to be a friend to Bulma, the best friend he could be to her after he'd seen the way she'd acted when Vegeta came up in conversation. Despite having cursed the man in several different languages while giving birth loudly enough that they could hear her all the way down the hallway, it was obvious that she did love Vegeta, and in a way she had never truly loved Yamcha. The best he could do was to be there for her.

"Congratulations, Bulma. I'm happy for you," he told her.

"Thanks, Yami," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. The reality of the situation had forced Yamcha to grow up quickly, and she saw a better man inside him already.

"Mmm-hmm." He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "So from what I heard, it wasn't a very pleasant delivery," he joked.

Bulma shifted a little uncomfortably, grateful when her mother came over to take the baby. "This birth was the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced," she admitted. "Natsue was going to do a c-section, but by the time I got here to the clinic, my labor had progressed too far. It just wham! Hit me."

"I guess the little guy wanted out," Yamcha commented.

"Yeah, no kidding. I just wish he'd done less damage along the way," Bulma commented with a wince.

Yamcha refrained from making a rude comment about damage and the baby's father and instead focused on the child's mother. "Damage?"

Bulma nodded. "I tore when he came out. But considering how big he is, I can't complain too much." She smiled, watching as her son was being passed from her father to Gohan, who was sitting on a chair under the watchful eye of his mother.

"Yowch!" Yamcha winced in sympathy. "I've got to give you women a lot of credit. I don't know if I could do it."

"As soon as I held him, it was all worth it," Bulma assured him, recalling what Natsue had told her before. "I've wanted to be a mother since I was a little girl, and now that I am I can hardly believe it."

"I'm glad to hear it, and I'm happy for you," Yamcha told her softly. "That being said, I have something for you."

"What is it?" Bulma asked excitedly, thinking perhaps he had brought something cute for her son.

"Well, when I realized you were in so much pain, I remembered something I had hidden away at home, from even before..." Yamcha paused, then decided not to pitter patter around with his words. "From before I died." He held out a small folded slip of paper.

Bulma took it, wondering what on Earth such a small thing could be, and gasped when she unfolded the paper. "Oh, Yamcha! Thank you! You're the best!" She laughed with joy and held up a tiny green bean. "Hey, look at what Yamcha brought!"

"You're welcome, Bulma." Yamcha basked in the glow of her smile. Even as tired and bedraggled as she was, she was beautiful. _If I had only just..._ He shook the thought away. She wasn't his girlfriend any more. It was obvious that her heart belonged to Vegeta, even after all that had happened over four months ago.

"Oh wonderful, a senzu bean!" Chi-Chi exclaimed. "I'm glad I had them when I had Gohan, even though he wasn't as big as your son is. You're a big boy, aren't you?"

The baby stared up at her with large blue eyes.

"How much does he weigh, Dr. Natsue?" Gohan asked. "He's heavy for just being born."

"He's thirteen pounds, nine ounces," Natsue reported, "and if he keeps growing like I think he will, he'll be big and tall when he grows up, won't you, little man?"

"My goodness, that _is_ big," Mrs. Briefs commented thoughtfully. "Bulma wasn't even half that size when she was born." She carefully scooped her grandson up from Gohan's lap. "He must get his size from Vegeta's side of the family."

"I don't know. He doesn't like to talk about it," Bulma answered the silence which begged to ask the question everyone wondered. After all, the other Saiyans they'd seen had been much taller than Vegeta. "Anyway. Natsue, did you want to see a senzu bean in action?"

"Sure," Natsue agreed. She'd heard about them from Bulma, and her scientific mind had always been fascinated by the concept.

She wasn't disappointed; Bulma hopped right out of bed after eating the little bean and stretched luxuriously. "I feel like a million zeni! Thank you, Yami!" she exclaimed, hugging her friend and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"You're welcome, Babe," Yamcha responded, returning the hug. "Won't Vegeta get jealous?"

"Vegeta isn't here to _be_ jealous," Bulma retorted. "He won't lay a finger on you or any of my friends. He knows darn well that I-" She stopped abruptly and again her face fell.

Mrs. Briefs handed the baby to her husband and put an arm around her daughter. "He knows, Dear. How could he not?"

Bulma sighed. She hoped Vegeta knew she loved him; how many times had she told him now? How many nights had they spent in ecstasy together? "I hope so, Mom."

"You're worrying needlessly," Mrs. Briefs insisted. "You need to feed my grandson and get some rest."

"Speaking of which, did you and Vegeta ever agree on a name, Pumpkin?" Dr. Briefs asked as he rocked his grandson gently.

His question took Bulma off guard. "No, we never really talked about it- Wait. I take that back. We _did_ talk about it a little, but not specifically about choosing a name for our son." She didn't elaborate by saying that Vegeta had told her some things about the royal family of the House of Vegeta, the palace, the planet in general, and the Saiyan people, and that she'd just remembered a very specific detail that she'd forgotten, an important thing, from one of their conversations in particular.

No one bothered to ask what she meant by that cryptic answer. "It's all right, Bulma. Take your time," Oolong offered. "We don't mind standing here for as long as you do."

"Uhm, guys," Krillin began warily. "I don't think that you should be doing that..."

Bulma frowned, suddenly realizing that Oolong and Master Roshi _had_ been smirking and whispering ever since she'd gotten out of bed. "What's going on?" she asked cautiously.

Tien cleared his throat. "You're, uhm, wearing a hospital gown, Bulma," he offered, hesitantly indicating the areas where the gown was loosely held somewhat closed by only fabric ties.

"You perverts! Get out of here!" Bulma shouted, her irritation peaking when her son began to cry. "Now look at what you did!" She took the baby from her father, mindful of how she walked so that her two admirers couldn't see anything else she didn't want them to. "Shhh, it's okay, Sweetheart. Don't cry."

"So, you did pick a name?" Chi-Chi interjected before anything else could be said.

Bulma contemplated this. "Well... _I _did, I suppose you could say." She rocked the child gently. "It's a good family name. I like it."

* * *

"You're sure about this?"

Bulma sighed as she got into the vehicle. "Chi, for the millionth time, yes. I know you all think I'm a basketcase, but that's the name I've picked, and it's final."

Chi-Chi sighed as well, wondering just what Vegeta would think of the name Bulma had chosen, if he even bothered to show up again. "All right." She shut the passenger door and got into the back seat next to the baby.

Dr. Briefs looked up in the rear-view mirror. "Are we all ready to go home now?"

"I'm more than ready," Bulma confirmed, twisting around to look behind her. "Just wait until you see your nursery, little man! All filled with nice things just for you!"

"We're all strapped in back here too," Chi-Chi told the doctor. "I made sure I collected all of Bulma's things, and whatever gifts that were received."

"All right, then away we go," Dr. Briefs responded good-naturedly. He started the engine and headed for Capsule Corp.


	8. Chapter 8

Reformatted 12/25/09

AN: Okay, here's the big turning point I mentioned last chapter. I am formally introducing one of several original characters I have created that play a major role in this story (you got a glimpse of him in Chapter One). Again, you will see some lines of dialogue from the anime but nothing _too_ set in stone, just jumping off points for getting where I need to go.

A couple of random things:

1- Kudos to anyone who can identify what it is that Vegeta can't quite put his finger on.

2- As far as stuff like the birthdates go, I honestly have no idea what they should be or if they were ever even mentioned in the canon universe, so I completely made them up.

3- If you don't know what a chonmage is, try googling an image, or else think Samurai Jack, or even a Sumo wrestler. :)

4- There has been some debate as to whether Puar is male or female. In this story, Puar is a little girl kitty.

****Important**** I feel the need to issue a warning about this chapter because it contains a scene that some readers will find disturbing involving torture, death and glee over the misery of others, so be forewarned. It is a flashback scene, and as you know if you have been following this story from the beginning that _flashbacks are italicized and easy to differentiate_, so if you don't want to read that part, you can skip over it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Thanks also to my sweetie for reviewing this for me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Eight

"Huh? Wha-" Geta sat up, holding his aching head and looking around himself. "Where am I?" It was then that he remembered what had happened, and where he was. His eyes widened; he'd just barely managed to escape the two androids responsible for the destruction of his world and the death of everyone he'd ever loved and cared about by transporting himself twenty years into the past. He was in the storage area beneath Capsule Corp, the area which one day would become his mother's hidden lab. If his plan was successful and all went well, it never would.

As depleted as it was, the young man made the effort to mask his ki as he picked up the capsule containing the time machine and tucked it securely inside his clothes. Scanning the grounds, he could feel several vaguely familiar ki, along with that of his infant self and three other familiar ones that he knew he'd never forget, those of his mother and grandparents. A lump formed in his throat, but he had no time for sentimentality. What he needed to do was get out of the house undetected and to the desert. His father would be returning to Earth in a short time, as would Goku and a certain someone else. He took in a deep breath at the thought of facing his father alive and well for the first time in seventeen years. Oddly enough, while Frieza didn't scare him, the thought of the reaction of the man who had sired him _did._

He crept up into the main house and into the kitchen. If he could just find something he'd be able to eat! It had been so long since he'd had anything of true sustenance, and the leftover roast wrapped in plastic wrap on the top shelf beckoned invitingly. Suppressing the urge to grab the meat, which he knew his stomach wouldn't be able to tolerate yet, he opened the refrigerator and instead took several bottles of juice, water and an energy drink. He scooted out of the kitchen just in time to avoid being seen by his grandmother, who'd come inside through the side door to make tea and lemonade for their guests. Damn! So much for food. He wove his way quickly through the house and out the front door unnoticed, and began the flight to the desert.

* * *

The ground shook as Capsule Four landed with a loud thud, creating a small crater in the otherwise immaculately tended yard. Yamcha and Krillin came running to see for themselves what the source of the devastation was.

They stopped a short distance away from the smoking machinery. "It's one of Dr. Briefs' capsules!" Krillin exclaimed. "Do you think-"

He stopped as the outer door opened and began lowering itself to the ground. He and Yamcha exchanged looks. Was this it?

"Oh, my." The two turned to see that Mrs. Briefs had waltzed up behind them, tea pot in hand. "Maybe I should make some more tea. I wasn't expecting any more guests..." she chattered nervously, knowing just who this 'guest' was.

As soon as the inner door opened enough to permit passage, a very cranky Vegeta emerged, pointedly ignoring the men standing nearby.

"Vegeta!" Yamcha took a defensive stance. "What do _you_ want?" he demanded, fists clenched.

"Vegeta, how good to have you home, Dear! Would you like some tea? Or coffee?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully in an effort to keep the peace.

Vegeta ignored her. "Has Kakarrot returned?"

"So you didn't find him, either," Krillin noted.

"Evidently not, Baldy," the disgruntled Saiyan snapped. "I suggest you hold your tongue before I remove it from your mouth, got it?"

The two men backed off, obvious discomfort coloring their faces. All right, that confirmed it- Vegeta was definitely in 'A Bad Mood'.

Bulma strolled over from the patio to investigate the crash. Sure enough, it was Vegeta, and the anger, irritation and hurt she'd felt when he'd left returned in spades. Angry tears of hurt welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. _So, he decided to come back, huh? Well, I'm not going to make this easy for him! He's going to _earn_ my forgiveness, that's for sure,_ she vowed to herself. "Eww, what is that horrible _smell?_" she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose as she approached the group. "Oh, it's _you_. However could I forget the smell of unwashed Saiyan royalty?"

Vegeta scowled at the woman he called his mate and was about to reply when she beat him to it.

_"You,"_ she poked Vegeta in the chest with one finger, "are in desperate need of a bath. And we need to talk. Come on inside." She began walking toward the house, fully expecting him to follow her.

Vegeta just glowered at the woman headed toward the house. _How _dare_ she treat me like... that..._ He found himself mesmerized by her round backside and the sway of her hips in the form fitting skirt she was wearing. Form fitting... It struck him. _She birthed the brat! Have I really been gone that long?_ He recalled that when he'd left it had been snowing, and now, the summer heat was upon them. Guilt washed over him, but he quickly pushed it away. He'd done nothing wrong!

"Well? Are you coming _Highness,_ or shall I have the palace slaves roll out the red carpet?"

Vegeta's thoughts were interrupted by Bulma's sarcastic voice. He growled and followed her. The others looked on in shocked surprise. She had told Vegeta what to do, and he was actually _doing_ it.

They walked in silence down the quiet halls before she spoke again. "Why did you do it, Vegeta? Why did you just go?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't owe you any explanations, Woman-"

Bulma turned, her finger to her lips. "Shhh! Lower your voice, will you?" She scowled at him. "I just got him to go down about half an hour ago," she told Vegeta, indicating a closed door. "It's amazing enough he slept through your landing, but if he wakes back up because you can't keep your voice down, _you're_ the one who's going to rock him back to sleep, got it?"

"What are you babbling about?" Vegeta asked snidely, although he knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Don't insult me or our son, Vegeta," she whispered as they reached their room. They went inside and she shut the door behind them. "Please tell me why you left. It really hurt me when you left the way you did." This time she was unable to hold her tears back.

Vegeta turned away so as not to see her tears. He hadn't just upset or even angered her, but he had _hurt_ her, something he hadn't intentionally meant to do. "To find Kakarrot," was his only reply as he began stripping off his soiled uniform and armor.

"But... was it me? The baby? What?" she asked absently, watching his muscles flexing as he peeled off his spandex shirt. _Great Kami, I'd almost forgotten how gorgeous his body is-_ She shook her head to clear it and averted her gaze. No! She was _not_ going to let her feelings for him sway her.

He turned to face her. The look he gave her made her uncomfortable. "To find Kakarrot," he repeated as he entered the adjoining bathroom. He would never admit to her that even though he couldn't care less what they thought, he didn't want to deal with the indignance of the others being wished back. Would never acknowledge, even to himself, that he didn't know how to be a father, that he might actually be nervous about fatherhood. Didn't want to have to take good, _considerate_ care of her or a child in front of her friends.

Didn't want to seem as if he cared about either Bulma or his son in the slightest.

Didn't want anyone to see his uncertainty, his weakness.

Bulma sighed as the water turned on in the bathroom. It was evident that he wasn't going to be very conversational. "I'll find you some clothes. Come out to the patio when you're done showering. We're barbequing for lunch."

He didn't respond. She sighed again, thinking about how wonderful he'd been to her right before he'd left. Now, he was right back to being cold and selfish. Suddenly her face brightened. _I almost forgot!_ She stealthily grabbed whatever was in his dresser and closet and put a shirt and pair of pants she'd hung in the closet on the bed. "Ha, ha, not even a uniform to wear!" she crowed to herself with satisfaction.

* * *

They were sitting around the table on the patio chattering and laughing companionably when a loud shout could be heard through the partly opened bedroom window. "Woman! Bring me a drying cloth at once!"

Bulma walked over under the window and glared up at it. "I do have a name, and whenever you want something you shouldn't have, you do know it! And what's wrong with saying please?"

"Fine! Forget the drying cloth, then!"

"No problem. Drip dry, you jerk!" she shouted back, ignoring the smirks of her friends.

"What the hell is this? It's _pink!_" Vegeta shouted. "I'm a warrior, not some variety of flower!"

They all laughed as he flew out of the bedroom window wearing a pink shirt with "BAD MAN" across the back and absolutely horrid mismatched yellow pants. "What the hell did you give to me to wear, Woman?"

"Calm down, it's the latest style," she lied. "Besides, you smell good!" Everyone laughed even harder.

"Stop laughing before I blast you all!" Vegeta bellowed.

The laughter abruptly stopped. "Chill out, Vegeta. It's just a joke." Bulma put her finger in the air in a 'wait' position and paused as if listening to something, then sighed. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised," she muttered. "One of you take me up there before he starts-"

The piercing wail of an infant split the air. Bulma put her elbow on her free arm and let her face drop into her hand.

"I don't have a problem taking you up, Bulma, but it _was_ Vegeta who woke him up with his yelling. You should stay here and let _him_ deal with it." Yamcha leaned back in his chair and smirked at the angry Saiyan.

"I'm not getting involved," Krillin added, waving his hands in a 'no-thanks!' gesture. "This is between you two."

The baby began to wail even louder. Visibly upset, Bulma latched onto Vegeta's arm. "Just take me up there, will you please?" she murmured, looking up at him with big blue doe eyes that were always able to make him feel weak and foolish.

Vegeta sighed in resignation. He was going to have to do this sooner than later anyway. "Fine," he growled, putting an arm around her in the least affectionate way he could manage.

They levitated up to the nursery window. "Shhh! Hush Sweetie, Mama's here," Bulma soothed, pushing the window completely open and climbing inside. She rushed over to the bassinette on an adjacent wall and scooped the squalling bundle up. "Shh-shh-shh..." she soothed, bouncing the baby gently.

Vegeta stood by the window uncomfortably, staring out of it at the clouds outside. He hadn't said anything nor made any move to see his son.

"Vegeta." Bulma's voice was a whisper. "Come over here."

He averted his eyes to look at her but didn't move.

"Vegeta, please," she implored him. "I know you haven't forgotten our conversation in the kitchen when I told you that I was pregnant. Please, at least acknowledge our son." Her eyes were sad. "This is important to me."

The part of him that was nervous about fatherhood wanted to tell her he couldn't care less about what was important to her, but he knew that wasn't true. Besides, the others already thought so little of him that they were probably _expecting_ him to reject not only the child, but to abandon Bulma as well. They were probably surprised that he'd come back at all.

He didn't want to leave Capsule Corp. and had almost come to think of it as home. He wouldn't admit it, but he still very much wanted Bulma for his mate. She was intelligent, beautiful and had a temperament as close to that of a Saiyan woman's as he was ever likely to find. She could give as good as she got in an argument, keeping up with him almost effortlessly at times. At the same time, there was that passionate part of her spirit that could calm him, make him feel like he really was the greatest man in existence when she gazed at him in adoration with those soft blue eyes. He knew she actually _wanted_ him, not just physically, that she had deeply rooted feelings for him. He knew she loved him, and the thought that he might have ruined that bothered him.

If he was going to stay here, there was no way he could avoid interaction with this child and was going to have to get used to the idea of fatherhood. He sighed deeply and walked over to Bulma and their son, noting the relief in his mate's eyes as he approached.

The baby had stopped crying now, much to Vegeta's relief. He mentally composed himself and craned his neck to peer at the baby, who was clad in a tiny pair of blue pajamas.

"Vegeta, he's not going to bite," Bulma chastised him gently. She took a step closer to him and positioned her arms so that he could better see his son.

That part of him that was anxious over being a father didn't want to do this, but he obliged Bulma and looked down at the baby in her arms. His son's eyes were the same shade of blue as his mother's, although the shape of them was Vegeta's. Other than the eye color- and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on- the child looked remarkably like him. There was no disputing that this was his son.

His heir.

This brought another issue to mind. "Does… does he still have a tail?" Thoughts of a tail-less Gohan rushed through his mind.

"Yes, he does," Bulma responded softly, pleased by the way things were going so far. "It's inside his jammies. They're still too big for him, so there's plenty of room for it. I would never have let anyone remove his tail, Vegeta." She looked over at her mate. "Did you want to hold him?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them, for he tensed up and backed away. "No... not yet."

Bulma managed a smile in an attempt to cover her disappointment. "That's okay. I know this is all new and sudden for you. No rush." _At least he didn't imply that he never would._ She took the baby over to a changing table against one of the walls.

The room was quiet for a while until her voice broke the silence. "I gave him a good family name."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "A family name, huh? What is it? Thong? Speedo? Boxers?" He couldn't help but laugh. "If it had been a female, you could have called her Panties."

"Funny. Maybe you should forget about training and do stand up." The smile Bulma gave him before turning away was not one of amusement. "I always said that I would name my son after a very dear uncle of mine."

"Well? If you want me to take an interest in this brat, you should at least tell me his name," Vegeta said irritably.

Bulma took in a deep breath and gazed down at her son. "Remember how I said that I thought it was important for this baby to grow up with an appreciation of his lineage and heritage? Well, everyone thought I was a basketcase for doing it, but I decided to honor what I had personally deemed important and named him in deference to his heritage." She finished up with the baby and cleaned up with some hand sanitizer, then lifted him to her shoulder, still facing away from Vegeta. "Besides, I figured, who am _I _to break such a long standing tradition?" She kissed the dark haired little head resting comfortably on her shoulder and began to sway gently.

Vegeta was astonished. "Are you saying you named him Vegeta?" he asked incredulously, not realizing that he'd momentarily gone slack jawed. It had never occurred to him that she would want to name the baby Vegeta, especially not after what he'd done.

"Don't make me regret it," she responded quietly. "Who knows if I'll ever have any other-" She stopped short, catching herself and fearing she'd already said too much. _I don't know if I even want to go there right now. Even though he got used to the idea, Vegeta told me didn't want me to get pregnant to begin with. Being his mate, if he doesn't want children I can pretty much kiss the notion of having any more goodbye._ Her lips rested gently against little Vegeta's soft hair. "I've, well, we've all been calling him 'Geta' to avoid confusion." She snuck a look at Vegeta out of the corner of her eye to catch his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. " 'Geta'? Ugh! That's terrible! Disgraceful, even." He made a face. "You're going to give the brat a complex, Woman."

Bulma turned to Vegeta, and shrugged. "It's kept things simpler, and he doesn't seem to mind, do you little man?"

The baby yawned and rested his head back down against his mother's shoulder.

"See?" Vegeta smirked at her. "I'm just as impressed by your little nickname."

"I'm glad, Veggie. Would you prefer to call him 'VJ', for Vegeta Junior? Do you like 'VJ' better, Cutie?" Bulma cooed to her son.

"That's even worse. I will call my son Vegeta, as is his name," Vegeta informed her smugly.

Bulma looked up from the baby and smiled. "Again, I'm glad to hear it, Vegeta."

He realized he'd been tricked and scowled at her. Before he could open his mouth, Bulma spoke up.

"Let's go get some barbeque before the guys finish it off," she suggested. "Now where _did_ I put your hat, baby boy? Mama can't take you outside with a bare head to get sunburned, can she? Ah, here it is." Bulma produced a despicably ugly blue hat with little pointy ear-like projections on the top of it and pulled it onto the baby's head after some effort; the amount of downy hair on the child's head made it a little difficult. "There we are! All set."

"I was wrong. That hat is disgraceful," Vegeta muttered, staring distastefully at the article of clothing. "The brat has plenty of hair. Let him be."

"He needs a hat, Vegeta. He's only three months old, and it's not a good idea for a three-month-old to be outside with an uncovered head," Bulma objected. "Besides, I think it's a cute hat. It goes with the little outfit I just put him in, see?"

Vegeta wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was that stupid word again. "Cute? You really are a bonehead. Give me that!" Before she could react, he snatched up the hat from his son's head and incinerated it, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Oh! You ass," she growled. "Now what?"

"Now, you would do well to remember that the brat is half Saiyan, and that you could drop him on the floor and not injure him," Vegeta informed her. "I want my lunch, so let's go, Woman." He herded her toward the window.

"What? Are you crazy? I'm not taking my baby out a window unless this place is on fire," Bulma retorted.

"That could be arranged. Let's go already." Vegeta shoved her up to the window.

"Vegeta, please," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm afraid to go out the window holding the baby."

He sighed and flew out through the window, then turned to face her. "You are my mate, Bulma," he reminded her in a low, gentle voice. "I swear that I would never do anything to bring harm to you." He stroked a finger down the side of her face and down her neck. "If you don't trust me bringing you down through the window, go through the house." He turned to leave.

"Vegeta?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "I trust you with my _life_. Implicitly, in fact." She reached out of the window toward him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

He exhaled slowly, a scowl on his lips, but said nothing.

"Come here," she requested a second time, still holding out her hand. "Vegeta," she whispered.

He flew back over to the window. "What?" he asked, his arms crossed sullenly.

Forgetting about making Vegeta earn anything, Bulma cupped the side of his face with her free hand and smiled, moving her face closer to his.

"Woman, they're watching-"

She kissed him soundly, effectively quieting him. "I don't care," she murmured against his lips. "Neither should you." She kissed him again, pleased when he cupped her face in his hands and returned the kiss ardently. Oh, how she'd missed his kisses...

A loud wolf whistle and a shout came up from the patio. "Woooooo-hooo!"

Vegeta pulled away as if she had some wretched disease, blushing. "Are you coming or not?" he growled.

"I trust you," she whispered again, a little hurt by his rejection. "Here, take him for a moment." She held their infant son out to him.

He hesitantly accepted the child. "What do I do with him?" Vegeta looked as though he was holding a live grenade instead of a baby.

"Cradle him in the crook of one arm, then I'll climb out the window." She situated the baby in one of his arms, then climbed out onto the windowsill. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against his chest in his other arm. She leaned back against him, resting her head against his shoulder.

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder at the others. They were still watching, he noted.

"Thanks for bringing me up," she said softly, looking up at his face.

The look in her eyes made his stomach twist. He had never imagined any woman looking at him the way she was, despite being angry at him. "Sure," he mumbled as his feet touched the ground. He lowered the arm cradling her.

Bulma regretfully slid off of his arm and to the ground. She would gladly have stayed there all afternoon if he had let her. _His body feels so good, so firm and warm. He smells good too, but then again, he always does, unless he's just been training,_ she thought with a little smile. _Too bad he's being a jerk right now. What am I thinking? I just passionately kissed the man twice!_ "Huh?" She suddenly realized that someone was calling her name and turned to face the voice.

"Bulma! I brought some more barbeque!" Mrs. Briefs sang, carrying a large platter full of food. "You boys sure are hungry!"

"Oh, good. Thanks, Mom!" Bulma ran off to meet her, leaving the baby with its stunned father.

"Woman!" Vegeta called after her retreating form anxiously. "What am I supposed to... Damn it," he muttered, looking down at the infant resting in the crook of one arm. The baby seemed perfectly content to be there and had wrapped his fuzzy little tail around Vegeta's arm, looking up at him with huge blue eyes.

Vegeta's sensitive ears were met with snickering from the table nearby. "Shut the hell up!" he snapped irritably. "My threat to blast you all still stands!"

The next thing he knew, Bulma's crazy mother was snatching his son away and making idiotic faces and noises at him. Vegeta watched her for a moment before turning away in disgust, unsure of whether he should feel relieved because he no longer held the child- especially in front of the other warriors- or apprehensive because of _who_ it was holding him.

"Bulma, I can't stay long. Your father and I are leaving for our trip in a few minutes, remember?" Mrs. Briefs reminded her daughter as she cooed at her grandson.

"Oh, that's right. Did you need any help, Mom?" Bulma inquired as she put ribs and shish kabobs on the grill.

"Oh, no, I'm all done packing, Bulma dear." Mrs. Briefs laughed happily. "I'm going to have a cup of tea before we leave. Would anyone else like something?"

"I wouldn't mind a grape soda if you have one," Krillin requested.

Mrs. Briefs contemplated this. "I don't think so, but I have lemonade, or regular cola. Or tea." She giggled some more.

"Uhm, some lemonade would be fine, right, guys?" Krillin gave the others seated around the table a look that begged them to agree. Otherwise, it was impossible to be rid of the woman's coddling.

"Sure!"

"Sounds great, thanks."

Mrs. Briefs beamed. "I'll just go get it now- oh, I've still got little baby Vegeta. Yes, Gram has you, doesn't she? Oh, but look at that precious widdle smile!"

"Watch this," Yamcha said silently so Vegeta wouldn't see. "Oh, I'll take him, Bunny," he offered, taking the baby from her. "We'll mind him for you. Heyyyy, little guy-"

Vegeta turned on his heel, eyeing the scarred warrior with a look that promised a slow and definitely painful death. "Don't touch my brat, punk," he growled.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Mrs. Briefs cooed, clasping her hands. "Thank you, Yamcha. What a dear boy you are." Humming happily to herself, she headed back to the house.

"Oh, it's no problem at all, really," Yamcha assured her. "You're cute, aren't you? A-boo-boo…"

The baby wriggled in Yamcha's arms, his little limbs flailing. Rather than smile at his current caretaker, his tiny, rapidly reddening face twisted into a scowl very much like the elder Vegeta's.

"Uh-oh!" Krillin and Oolong chorused.

Krillin leaned over to his friend, eyeing the Saiyan who was eyeing Yamcha with a murderous glare. "Uhm, Yamcha? Whatever it is you're doing again, I'd either stop it or hand that baby off before he-"

The baby let out a shrill scream that made everyone wince.

"Screams," Krillin finished.

Vegeta was about to strangle the man holding his child when Bulma beat him to the chase.

"Yamcha, how many times do I have to tell you, two hands? And watch the tail, will you? It's extremely sensitive! No wonder he's screaming. Look at what you're doing to him. Give him to me, you oaf!"

"Bulma, I didn't mean it, honestly. I'd never deliberately hurt a baby. That's just low," Yamcha objected, clearly hurt. He'd meant to irritate Vegeta by holding the man's child, not by pinching the little guy's tail.

Bulma relented, sighing. "I know. I'm sorry. Just be more careful, okay?"

"Bulma, the grill is smoking!" Oolong was pointing to the grill, which now contained shish kabobs and ribs flambé.

Bulma shrieked and ran back over to the grill. "Oh, crap!"

Yamcha sighed and looked down at the child nestled in the crook of one arm. The tears in the boy's large blue eyes made his heart ache. "Hey, little munchkin," he intoned softly, running a finger along one tiny tear-stained cheek. "I'm sorry about your tail, honest. I guess I'm just not used to them."

The baby whimpered but it didn't appear that he would start crying again.

Yamcha had always been fond of children of all ages, and had on many occasions signed autographs for his younger fans until his hand nearly fell off. "It's okay, huh?" He lifted the baby up against his chest, immediately melting when the little head rested upon his shoulder, one tiny hand fisting the fabric of his shirt. "Aww, guys. Will you take a look at that? What a sweet little guy you are." He patted the little back gently, a dopey expression crossing over his face.

"Awww..." Krillin and Oolong echoed in equally sappy tones.

"All that kid ever did was throw up on me," Oolong complained.

"That's a self-preservation technique," Krillin told him in a serious voice. "You know how a toad will pee on you, or a lizard will shed its tail to avoid being caught by a predator? Babies throw up on people they don't like. Be glad he didn't do anything worse on you."

Even Bulma's laughter was heard from behind the grill. "Good one, Krillin!" she called out.

_Speaking of tails..._ "Bulma, what nickname did you decide on?" Yamcha indicated the baby with a directional nod of his chin.

"I was going to call him 'Geta' but it looks like it's going to be 'VJ'," Bulma announced. "Vegeta thought 'Geta' was disgraceful."

"Okay, good to get that straightened out, because I didn't want to be caught saying that Vegeta had wrapped his cute little tail around my wrist," Yamcha commented, grinning when everyone but Vegeta laughed and groaned at the joke. He ran a finger gently over the soft fur of the baby's tail, which had coiled itself around his other wrist.

Vegeta had done nothing other than sit at the table and glare at the individual holding his son- until now. He leapt up from his seat, sending it tumbling away behind him. "For the sake of his mother I will tolerate your presence near my offspring, Weakling," he snarled. "But if you ever, _ever_ touch his tail again, I promise you that I will make you suffer!"

Speechless, Yamcha could only gape in astonishment and fear at the enraged man whose face was now only inches from his own. "I- I..."

"Vegeta, leave him alone!" Bulma shrieked, rushing over to her friend's aid and taking her now squalling son from him. "He didn't mean anything bad! What's the matter with you?"

Vegeta wheeled to face her, relieving Yamcha to the point that the poor man could breathe again. "How would you like it if everyone who saw you automatically reached out and groped you, thinking it was an adorable thing to do when it is, in fact, a deplorable thing?" he demanded.

Bulma blinked at him. "Vegeta, no one has ever meant anything improper by touching VJ's tail," she stammered. "We're just not used to people with tails, and on a baby it's cute, especially when he curls it around someone's wrist. That's all." She laid a hand on Vegeta's arm in an effort to calm him. "All you had to do was state that Saiyans found it offensive to touch each other's tails, and ask that no one touch our son's tail. No one knew that, and everyone would have respected your wishes."

Vegeta continued to growl. "He would have done it simply to irritate me," he accused Yamcha, who sat up straight in his seat.

"No, I wouldn't have," Yamcha objected with a frown. "I wouldn't try to deliberately offend other people like that, especially by hurting defenseless children." His voice reflected the insult he felt from Vegeta's accusation. "I didn't know you found touching his tail offensive, and I apologize."

Vegeta's jaw set and he continued to glare at Yamcha. "Be sure that you mind your words, punk, and remember that I will mind my own."

"Vegeta, please." Bulma's eyes pleaded with him. "He apologized. Can't we just have a peaceful afternoon today?"

Vegeta sighed and grabbed the nearest chair, not deigning to retrieve the one he'd knocked over earlier. "Whatever, Woman. Just hurry up with that food." He was hungry, and the smell of it was making him even hungrier, which in turn was making him even more irritable.

"I think it's just about done," Bulma responded, relieved that Vegeta was letting the situation go.

"Well, what should we do the next time the little guy wraps his tail around one of our wrists?" Krillin asked thoughtfully. He frowned when Yamcha gave him a look that clearly meant he should shut up. "What? You don't want to offend Vegeta again, do you?"

Yamcha opened his mouth, then shut it again. "No," he reluctantly agreed.

"What did your parents do when _you_ did it, Vegeta?" Oolong asked, snatching a kabob from the platter Bulma set on the table. "Man, is this good. I'm pigging out!"

There was a moment of silence before the prince finally spoke. "I remember my nanny tickling the bottom of my foot to distract me enough that I'd let go," Vegeta responded quietly. "If that didn't work, she would very gently take my tail between her fingers and run her fingertips down it on either side to relax it enough that it would loosen up. That method is especially effective if the brat has fallen asleep."

There was another long pause, and Bulma held in her sigh. Vegeta's voice sounded undeniably sad to anyone who knew him well enough to notice the difference in his tone. "That's different than touching it just to touch it," she pointed out, trying to steer the topic of conversation down another vein as she piled ribs onto another platter.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes," he agreed, putting some of the ribs onto his own plate.

"So your parents did that too, or something different?" Oolong pressed on, not grasping the reason why Vegeta had mentioned what his _nanny_ did instead of what his parents had done.

"Vegeta, would you like some more barbeque sauce for your ribs?" Bulma interjected cheerily, further attempting to change the topic of conversation. Her mate may try to hide it, but she knew that his parents' neglect of him when he was a child had wounded him more deeply than he'd ever admit.

"Oh... Oh!" Oolong exclaimed, suddenly realizing what the looks that Krillin and Yamcha were giving him meant- that Vegeta's parents hadn't _had_ to get his tail from around their wrists because they hadn't held him the way Oolong had typically seen parents do.

Vegeta looked his mate in the eyes and held out his hand to accept the barbeque sauce she held. "Sure," he responded. "Why not?"

* * *

Geta landed in the desert not far from where his mother had told him that Frieza and Goku had arrived at. He concealed himself within a group of boulders and opened one of the bottles of water he'd taken from the refrigerator at Capsule Corp.

_Oh... So good..._ he thought as he gulped the refreshing liquid down greedily. He was half tempted to dump some of it over his head, as he was hot and seriously needed a bath, but didn't want to waste it. He leaned back against one of the boulders with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Then squirmed. The gear he wore was hot and restrictive; not only was it trapping his sweat against his skin but it pinched at his tail. _At least it's not as though I'll need this for camouflage purposes again._ He used a tiny ki ball to burn a small hole in the back of his gear, just large enough for his tail to slip through, and sighed in relief as it was released from its confines and re-wrapped itself around his waist.

He awoke from a short catnap when he felt it- two large ki were approaching, and although he had never felt either of them before, neither was friendly. It could only be two people, Frieza and his father, King Cold. Neither individual was attempting to hide his arrival, as if taunting the small band of warriors on Earth of their impending doom. Geta had also detected his father's return almost immediately after he'd fled Capsule Corp, and knew that once Frieza realized that Vegeta had been raised by the dragonballs, he would especially take delight in tormenting him further.

It wouldn't happen. It ended today.

* * *

Vegeta stopped chewing and sat up straighter in his chair. He swallowed slowly. _No... no, it can't be! He's supposed to be dead! Kakarrot must have failed!_

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked, shifting their slumbering son in her arms. "What's wrong?" She did _not_ like the look on his face.

"Y-you feel it too?" Krillin asked in a tiny voice. "I was hoping that I was just imagining things."

"You're not imagining anything," Vegeta rasped. "It's that bastard and his father, no doubt about that."

Bulma could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She couldn't detect ki the way they did, but if Krillin also felt the overwhelming presence of whoever Vegeta was feeling and both were visibly unnerved, it could only be one person. "You don't mean..." She bounced the baby anxiously.

"Who are they? I can feel two large ki, but I don't recognize either of them," Yamcha interjected.

"It's Frieza and his father King Cold," Vegeta informed him pointedly. He didn't smirk when the other man's eyes widened. "Either he is after Kakarrot and the boy, or has found out that I was raised by the Nameks' dragonballs and has come back to," he paused, "re-enlist my servitude. Either way, this planet is the first logical choice." He turned to Krillin. "Did the Namek teach Kakarrot's brat how to dampen his ki?"

"I- I don't know," Krillin admitted nervously. Vegeta wasn't fooling around here, and seeing him act this way was even more unsettling than just the fact that Frieza was approaching the planet.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "It's probably too late for that anyway. If we are able to detect him, certainly he knows who is on this planet and where we are."

"Wait, I thought Frieza was dead. How could he be coming here?" Yamcha asked nervously.

"Obviously he survived, which isn't that huge of a shock considering that Kakarrot also did," Vegeta pointed out. "We should have foreseen that as a possibility and planned for it accordingly." He sounded angry, as if irritated at himself for not having thought of it sooner.

Yamcha bit his lip. "You're positive it's Frieza? How do you know for sure he's coming for-"

Vegeta again jumped up from his chair. "I know it's Frieza! I was his _slave_ from the time I was five! Do you honestly think I could ever forget that disgusting lizard's ki, or anything else about him?" he demanded passionately, slamming his fist down on the table hard enough to make his glass fall to the ground, where it shattered noisily. "I make it a point to know these things! You two may not be a threat to him so he wouldn't bother with hunting you down, but Frieza desired the total annihilation of my race when I was a boy, and now he's come to finish the job."

There was a moment of silence as they took in the weight of what Vegeta had said. Who else would know better than he did what Frieza was like? It all made sense. "Damn," Oolong, who had been silent up to that point, breathed.

Bulma's cell phone rang, breaking the silence, and she flipped it open. "Hello? Hey, kiddo. Yes, they feel it too." She paused and looked over at Vegeta. "Yes, just today. He confirmed that it's Frieza, and that King Cold is with him." Another pause. "All right, I'll let them know. Bye." She flipped the phone shut again. "That was Gohan. He and Piccolo are heading out toward the desert, since that's where Piccolo says the ki are heading."

"We should go, too," Krillin mused.

"What for? Do you honestly think that your insignificant ki will be of any use against one such as Frieza?" Vegeta asked snidely.

Bulma was about to chastise him for his rudeness when Krillin beat her to the chase. "Maybe not, Vegeta, but don't forget you're not the only one who died by his hand on Namek. It sure as heck beats sitting here doing nothing and wondering what's going to happen to me," the little monk retorted. "Besides, I would be one less ki to lead Frieza to Bulma and the baby."

Vegeta had been angry at the reminder that Frieza had killed him but upon Krillin's point regarding his mate and son, just managed to keep his eyes from widening. He had not considered that! He looked over at Bulma, who was clutching their son against her chest anxiously. Frieza wouldn't go easy on either his mate or his son just because he was a child. Vegeta himself was living, breathing proof of that. "Go into the house," he murmured, "and take the child with you. Get what you need for him, and be prepared to leave when I contact you." His voice allowed no room for objection.

"Vegeta?" Bulma whispered. "What would Frieza do to VJ?"

Unwanted memories rushed through his brain and he shuddered in distaste as he pushed them away. "Trust me, Woman. You _don't_ want to know what he would do to either you or the child." He could think of several options for them; there was no way that either of them would possibly escape unscathed. Frieza would use Bulma's scientific abilities to his own advantage, and if she refused he would simply throw her to his men to do with as they pleased, a worse fate by far than merely killing her. If he kept her for scientific purposes and didn't simply give her to his men to kill he would at least make her one of the ship's whores at the bare minimum. As for the baby, either he would be killed in some horrific manner, with Bulma no doubt being forced to watch, or more likely Frieza would raise him to replace his father. Since he would be manipulated from infancy rather than from the age of five as Vegeta had been, it would be easy to mold him into a hateful, mindless, cold-blooded mass murderer.

"Vegeta?" Bulma's whisper snapped him back to reality.

"No," he growled. "Think about it, Bulma, but not too much. You must keep your wits about you if you wish to survive as far as Frieza is concerned. Believe me. Now, go."

"But-"

"Damn, disobedient wench!" Vegeta snarled, unwilling to look like he was as concerned for her safety as he actually was. Before she could respond, he scooped her and the baby up and headed for the bedroom window.

"Hey, what are you doing? Vegeta! Put me down you buffoon!" Bulma shrieked, clinging to him with one arm and the baby with the other.

"So much for that ass-kicking he's supposed to get," Oolong muttered as he watched Vegeta shove Bulma and the baby through the nursery window before following them inside.

"What ass-kicking?" Yamcha asked.

"Oh, Bulma went on a rampage after Vegeta took off and started yelling that she was going to kick his ass when he got back," Oolong explained, a note of amusement in his voice. "Instead, she ends up sucking face with him and feeding him barbeque. How messed up is that?"

"Hey, guys! The Briefs just left for their vacation!" a high-pitched little voice behind them announced. "Is there any barbeque left? I'm starving!"

"Sure, Puar. On the table," Yamcha murmured absently.

Puar frowned; all three of them were staring up at one of the windows, but no one was there. "Guys? Did I miss something just now?"

"Uhm, yeah. You could say that," Oolong answered the floating feline. The window suddenly shut and the drapes closed. The shape shifting porker sighed. "Damn. I wish Bulma would kick _my_ ass. Lucky son of a bitch."

* * *

"Vegeta, what the hell?" Bulma howled as she watched him shut the window.

He herded her toward the bassinette. "Put the brat inside."

"Vegeta-"

"Bulma, listen to me. Death would be preferable to what he would do to you, I assure you. For once, will you just listen to someone who knows from lifelong experience and do as you're told?" Vegeta pleaded.

Bulma blinked in surprise. He was actually _pleading_ with her. "Oh, Kami... you're serious," she whispered. She quickly placed their son in his bassinette when he nodded somberly.

"Bulma, there is no chance that Frieza would spare you, or even just kill you," Vegeta told her in a low voice. "At best, a female like you would be placed with the whores. But you would be doubly cursed on account of your association with me, and cursed still again if he discovered your scientific prowess. And don't even attempt to contemplate what he would do to _my_ son."

A tear trickled down Bulma's cheek and she shuddered. "V-Vegeta, I'm afraid," she whispered. "What if you'd come back just an hour or two later than you did?"

Vegeta visibly winced. "I confess, the timing of my departure and return were both unfortunate and..." He sighed. "Unfair to you," he murmured in acknowledgement. _Damn you, Kakarrot! You are the only one who stands a chance against Frieza, and where are you when your son and friends need you?_

"But _you_ came back," Bulma whispered in response.

It was almost as though she had read his mind. "I..."

"Just hold me for a moment before you go," she pleaded. Was everything he'd said and done since his return simply an act? Bulma hoped more than she'd ever hoped for anything before that it had been, that he was just embarrassed at the thought that the others might have realized that he did care. She still loved him despite all that had happened and wanted him to be a part of their son's life. "Please."

He cursed himself when he felt his heart wrench at the sight of tears glistening in her eyes. Unable to deny her, he gathered her in his arms and held her close. "Stop crying, Bulma," he commanded gruffly.

_He cares! He must care!_ Bulma clung to him tightly. _He wouldn't hold me like this if he didn't!_

"I must go," Vegeta's voice rumbled beneath her ear. He tilted her chin up and gazed at her for a moment, then hesitated briefly before releasing her and heading for the window.

"Vegeta? I..." Bulma wasn't sure she was ready to say what she needed to say to him, but what would she do if he was killed again and she hadn't told him? "Be careful."

He grunted and nodded his head in response as he opened the drapes pushed the window open.

_Now or never, Bulma._ "I love you."

Vegeta had been just about to fly out the window when she said it. To his surprise, he felt relief wash over him. Things were still tense between them because of what he had done and no doubt would be for a while, but the fact that she still loved him, that he hadn't irreparably damaged her love for him, felt like the heavy load weighing down upon his shoulders had just become considerably lighter. He hadn't realized just how much the possible loss of her love had affected him until now. He turned to look at her.

Her lips were trembling and she flung herself back into his arms. She had seen the expression on his face, relieved that it mattered to him and that she had swallowed her hurt pride to tell him on what just might be her last chance. "Oh, Vegeta!"

Forgetting that he was standing in front of the now open window, Vegeta tilted Bulma's chin up and kissed her.

"That is _so_ not right," Yamcha complained as the three of them watched Vegeta kiss Bulma with such intensity that she went limp in his arms. "How does he _do_ that?"

"You mean the fact that she went from angry to amorous in a matter of minutes, despite the fact that his treatment of her hasn't exactly been the most loving?" Krillin asked sarcastically.

"Something like that," Yamcha responded glumly.

Upstairs, Vegeta broke the kiss and released his now breathless mate. "Mind the boy," was all he said before flying out the window, but the look that burned in his eyes spoke volumes. He flew toward the desert where the rapidly approaching ki were headed, Yamcha and Krillin taking to the air to follow him.

Puar was giggling as the three men flew off. "Oh, wasn't that sweet, Oolong? Who knew Vegeta had it in him?"

Oolong shook his head in disbelief. "Damn, _really_ I wish she would kick my ass," he muttered darkly.

* * *

Geta peered out from his hiding spot as the Z-senshi landed one by one. It would have been easier if he hadn't broken Bulma's cloaking shield, but he couldn't dwell on that now.

His stomach did a flip-flop when the scowling, wild-haired man wearing a pink shirt and yellow pants landed nearby the others. He remembered his mother telling him about the joke she'd played on him and smiled sadly. It had hurt so badly when she had died, and he was looking forward to seeing her again. His father, on the other hand, had been murdered before his very eyes, and that traumatic experience had stayed with him the entire twenty years of his young life. How often had he woken up in the middle of the night in the midst of a dream, reliving one of their deaths? Anya would hold him and stroke his hair while speaking soothing words to him.

Anya. Oh, gods... If he'd thought that the deaths of his parents had been painful enough, her death had been even worse, that and the death of their-

He shook his head to clear it, swiping at the tears he hadn't realized had rolled down his cheeks with the back of his hand. Frieza was almost upon them. Now was not the time to mourn their loss. Now was the time to put into motion the prevention of the deaths of his parents, grandparents and friends. As long as breath remained within his body, he would fight for their survival, helping them to succeed where he had failed.

"So where are they? Are they getting close?"

Vegeta glared at the blue-haired woman standing beside him. He had been so angry with her for deliberately disregarding his directions and flying out to the desert in one of her capsule planes to meet them that he had refused to take her any further when they had moved on. Yamcha had reluctantly carried her, uncertain of whose wrath would be worse to face- Vegeta's, for not only touching his mate but for assisting her to put herself in danger, or Bulma's if he refused to take her. In the end he had taken her because he knew that unless the woman was bound and gagged in a closet somewhere there was no way to keep her away, so he might as well try to keep her out of trouble by keeping her close by. Besides, he understood what she'd said about not being able to stand just waiting. She wasn't going to just sit there while her friends fought and possibly died. If she was going to die by Frieza's hand, she might as well do it with her friends.

"For the last time Bulma, go home, and wait for us there!" Vegeta snapped. "Did you not hear what I told you, or has whatever you have done to puff up your hair in such a ridiculous manner also fried your brain?"

There were a couple of sniggers at the prince's dig at Bulma's hair and she glared at the culprits. None of them had made it a secret that they thought her perm was a disaster and Vegeta's taunting was just rubbing salt in the wound. "Oh, shut up," she snapped back, hurt that he was acting this way after what had just happened in the nursery. "I already told you why I'm here, and I told you that the baby is being guarded by bots. He's locked up in the lab and ki shielded. Nothing's going to happen to him."

"Oh, really?" Vegeta snapped. "You're more deluded than I thought if you believe that."

"I-" Bulma started to speak, but Vegeta cut her off.

"I'm no Super Saiyan. I know I have no chance against Frieza. He's already proven that," Vegeta admitted shamefacedly. "So unless some miracle happens, I'm going to die today, for good this time. I tried to buy you and the boy some time, and now because you have disregarded my directions the Saiyan race will be gone for good."

"Wh-what are you talking about, Vegeta?" Bulma stammered.

"Frieza knows that I am here, as well as Kakarrot's brat," Vegeta continued, gesturing to an astonished Gohan. "Once he comes here and kills us, he'll leave, wait for Kakarrot to return, and then just blow up Earth from space, like I watched him do to planet Vegeta when I was five. Then his purpose will have been accomplished."

Everyone stood and stared at him, no one knowing what to say. _I'm no Super Saiyan. I know I have no chance against Frieza... I'm going to die today._ No one thought that they'd ever hear anything of the like come from Vegeta's mouth.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Vegeta growled at his unwanted audience. "You had best prepare yourselves instead of staring at me."

_Oh, Father..._ Geta sat back, obscuring himself from view again. He'd had no idea the extent that Vegeta cared. He'd always remembered him to be a cold-hearted, uncaring man, which for the most part was what he had been. He'd never openly shown any sort of love or affection, even to his own mate, but Geta realized now that that didn't mean he didn't feel it. He understood with shame just what had happened that day the androids had come- Vegeta had died attempting to save his young son, trying to save _him_. Geta remembered it vividly. He had been training with his father in the GR when Vegeta had suddenly left and secured the door, telling him to stay put, only to return again shortly thereafter when the androids had arrived and started to tear into the capsule to get to him. He'd watched in horror as they'd killed his father right in front of him.

_Vegeta plummeted to the ground and let out a grunt of pain as he struck it. He tried to get up, but both of his legs and one arm were broken, along with numerous other bones. He lifted his head and looked his young son in the eyes._

_"Vegeta, go. Fly away as fast as you can."_

_"Father, I don't wanna leave you," the child whimpered, rushing over to his beaten and bloodied father and throwing his little arms around his neck. "I'm ascared!"_

_"Boy, I told you to leave. Now go!" Vegeta snarled. "Get out of here! Go to your mother and your brother and get to safety!"_

_The two androids landed behind Vegeta, snickering at the sobbing little boy and his defeated father. "Aww, poor little guy," 18 said mockingly. She reached over and turned up his chin. "Are you crying?" She jerked the resisting boy away._

_"Leave him alone," Vegeta rasped out, reaching for his son with his good arm. It was no use; there was no way he could reach the child in his condition._

_17 snickered and kicked Vegeta in the stomach, causing the Saiyan prince to choke up a large amount of blood._

_"Father!" Geta screamed, struggling to get to Vegeta, but 18 held him firmly in her grasp._

_"Not so fast, little monkey," she cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice. "It's not your turn to die yet."_

_"Let go of me!" the child screamed. "Let Father go! He din't do anything to you guys! Why are you hurting people? You're mean!"_

_The two androids laughed cruelly. This child wasn't a challenge to them yet but his father had been fun while he lasted. "That's right," 17 agreed. "We _are_ mean. And now we're going to prove it."_

_"Say goodbye to your daddy," 18 cooed in that same syrupy voice before dashing the child to the ground and joining her brother._

_"Let the boy go," Vegeta snarled. "He's no threat to you."_

_"Oh, maybe not now, but someday he could be," 18 contradicted him, tilting his chin up the way she had Geta's. "That's why when we're done with you, he'll be next, then we'll track down your other son and the blue-haired bitch you're screwing and kill them too. So die knowing that you were too weak and useless to save your own family, and that your son is going to watch you die. Oh, and one more thing before we kill you." She kissed his bloody lips, snickering when Vegeta grimaced and tried to turn his face away. "Good night, sweet prince," she whispered._

_Geta shook off being thrown down by 18 and pushed himself up in time to see 18 grab one arm, 17 grab the opposite leg, and take to the air with his father. Vegeta's blood curdling scream, while blessedly short, was the most horrific sound that the boy had ever heard, even worse than the appalling sounds of flesh tearing, bones snapping and tendons popping from above him which accompanied the scream. He was unable to look away from the carnage, wide eyed with horror and trembling as his father's blood splattered down upon him and pieces of his torn body hit the ground beside him._

_"F-father?"_

_Vegeta didn't answer, and the little boy knew why. Vegeta had sustained some serious injuries during his training, but none were nearly as bad as what these evil people had just done. Even if they hadn't done what they had, his father's golden hair had returned to its natural ebony color and the eyes that had burned with teal fire only a moment ago were now a cold, lifeless black._

_The biggest clue, however, was that he could feel his father's ki no longer._

_"You killed my father!" he screamed, launching himself at the two machines. "You killed my father!"_

_"That's right, you imprudent brat," 17 intoned. "And now, we're going to kill you!"_

_Just before he could deliver the blow that would undoubtedly obliterate the boy, a ki blast hit him in the chest, sending him reeling. "Let him go, you bloodthirsty tin cans!"_

_The trembling boy looked up to the sky. "Gohan!"_

_"Let him go," Gohan repeated. "Why don't you try taking on someone who can actually give you a decent fight back instead of a three-year-old?"_

_"But we just did, and now look at him," 18 retorted with a laugh._

_"I think he's volunteering to go next, Sister," 17 taunted smoothly. "And they say that chivalry is dead."_

_"Chivalry isn't the only thing that's dead," 18 quipped, grinning when the other android laughed._

_Gohan's stomach lurched. He'd felt Vegeta's ki abruptly extinguished and knew that they'd killed the prince, but their methodology was simply gruesome. The fact that they'd done it right in front of Geta was even worse. _If I'd only gotten here a little sooner..._ There was no sense in fooling himself, though. He wasn't even ten yet, still a child himself. What could he have done other than... That's it! That's what he could do. He could buy some time! If he could lure the androids away from Geta, maybe Geta could find Bulma and Trunks and get to safety! :Geta, I'm sorry about your father. He was a very brave man. He would want you and your mom and brother to be safe. So when the androids follow me, I want you to go to where your Gram and Gramps are and keep safe, okay?: "Come and get me, you stupid machines!" Without waiting for a response from Geta, Gohan rocketed away, the androids hot on his heels._

_"You're next when we get back, monkey boy!" 18's voice trailed behind them, causing the distraught child to shudder even worse than he already was._

_Geta crawled over to his dead father as quickly as his bruised body would allow and collapsed against him. "Why?" he sobbed. "Why did they hurt you, Father?"_

_The kitchen door burst open and Bulma rushed out, white as a sheet and trembling. "Vegeta, I can't feel you. Where are... you..." She stopped and stared at her eldest son, who was just covered in blood, and at her mate, who literally lay in pieces on the ground. "Oh, gods no... _No!_" She ran over to them and fell to her knees. "Vegeta, no! Oh, no no no no..." She wrapped her arms around what remained of Vegeta's torso, clinging to his lifeless body and rocking as she screamed and sobbed hysterically._

Geta forced back a fresh set of tears. No, he couldn't lose it now. Today would be the start of a new life.

Today, he would buy them _all_ some time.

Today, a miracle would happen.

* * *

Frieza stood with his arms crossed and watched as the beautiful blue gem known as Earth grew closer and closer. Soon, he would put these miserable monkeys and their friends in their proper places- under his foot, if not underground. "Well, _Lieutenant_," he said smoothly to the man standing beside him, I'd say you have certainly earned that promotion." His lips curled up into a malicious smile. "Soon I'll have my little toy back. Several of them, it seems, if your findings are correct."

The newly promoted lieutenant nodded. "Thank you kindly, Lord Frieza. I feel most privileged to be of assistance to you. Along with the ki we have isolated belonging to Prince Vegeta, we have detected those of several humans with above average ki abilities, a Namek, and a half-Saiyan child which we discovered during our reconnaissance of this planet." A slow smile curled over his lips. "And, my Lord, we must not forget about the woman of which I told you. Prince Vegeta seemed quite taken with her. I can't say I blame him, though, as she was rather attractive. Well, for a human, anyway," he added as an afterthought.

"Good, good. We can use this female against him. If not, if she is as attractive as you say she is, she just might make a nice addition to my current group of lovely ladies." Frieza chuckled evilly. "Job well done, Lieutenant. I applaud you."

"Again I thank you, Lord Frieza. I live only to serve you," the man praised his master, bowing deeply as he did so. The very odd restroom break in that shopping mall on Earth had most definitely paid off.

* * *

This was it. The huge spaceship had landed a relatively safe distance away from the small band of warriors, but the distance made it seem no less daunting when a large group of soldiers poured out of it, followed by Frieza and an even larger- and uglier- individual they assumed must be King Cold.

"Vegeta, is that King Cold?" Krillin asked.

"Yes, now be silent, Baldie. I am trying to hear," Vegeta responded irritably.

"I can hear everything they're saying," Piccolo offered.

"Goodie for you. Now shut up." Vegeta inclined his head slightly in an attempt to hear. He could make out little bits and pieces, but even his acute Saiyan hearing wasn't _that_ precise.

* * *

Frieza marched out in front of his troops. "Now, all of you, begin your search. Don't forget, I want the Saiyans and the woman alive. As for the rest of them, when you find them, show no mercy," he commanded menacingly.

"Yes, sir!" chorused a group of the foot soldiers, taking action to leave. As soon as they'd begun to move, several startled grunts followed by thuds were heard. Frieza and King Cold turned to the source of the noise, only to see the soldiers collapsed on the ground. Their eyes flicked up to the figure levitating above them and followed him as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground.

The individual standing before them was quite tall, and wore strange clothing unlike any armor they had seen before. It was dirty and tattered and didn't seem that it would provide very heavy protection; rather, it appeared to be more useful for camouflage purposes. He wore a helmet with a face shield attached. The only part of his body which was exposed was the lower half of his face from the mouth down, as he had lowered that portion of the shield. A frown covered his features and he stood with his arms folded across his chest.

Both the Colds and the strange warrior- as they assumed him to be- stood for a moment or two and regarded each other in silence before the warrior spoke.

"So. You're Frieza," the deep voice began. His arms unfolded to his sides, hands closed into loose fists. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you face to face, and now, I'm going to make you pay for your crimes," he finished flatly.

Frieza began to laugh. "Ooh, we'd better run. Isn't that right, Father?" He gave the warrior a mock scared look and continued to laugh. "You don't know what you're up against, Boy."

The young Saiyan's frown deepened into a scowl. "I know exactly what I'm up against, Frieza, and frankly I'm not worried. You, however, should be."

Frieza snorted in disgust. "Well, you certainly are an arrogant little thing. And _maybe_ in whatever little hole you just crawled out of you're pretty tough. But you're no match for me, really. Fighting a pitiful little punk like you isn't even worth my time," he declared haughtily.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear yet," the young man continued calmly, refusing to give the lizard in front of him the pleasure of his annoyance. "You're finished, Frieza. I won't allow you or your soldiers to touch any of the individuals you've come for."

Frieza didn't look impressed. "This is a waste of my time. Vaporize this little rodent!" He took a step back as one of the soldiers strode forward.

"With pleasure!" the soldier declared, sneering at the young man as he advanced.

"The rest of you, spread out!" Frieza ordered. The other soldiers formed an arc around the warrior Frieza had just declared war against.

"I think it's only fair that I should warn you that none of you stand a chance against me," Geta told them. "You should take this opportunity to leave before you die by my hand."

The soldiers laughed and made degrading comments. It wasn't very difficult to come up with them; they didn't feel threatened in the least, and his tattered, unkempt appearance only added fuel to the fire. Annoyed at losing the spotlight, the first soldier pushed himself forward.

"Hmph. His power's only a level five. Well, whoever you are, I hope you said your goodbyes," he announced, leveling his wrist gun at the young man, who stood his ground, unmoving, "'cause it's about time for you to die!" He squeezed the trigger, firing a blast of energy.

Geta sighed. _I should just nip this in the bud before it gets too rowdy. Besides, I don't have much energy left and I don't want to get in trouble._ Raising an arm, he batted the energy away as harmlessly as if he'd shooed a fly. It exploded into a rise of rock behind him.

The foot soldier stuttered in shocked surprise before firing three more shots, each of which met the same fate. "But…" he stammered in fear.

Geta took to flight, slamming his fist into the big man's chest, who grunted and doubled over in pain, before anyone knew he'd even moved. Grabbing the startled man's head, he gave it a quick twist. There was a sickening crackling sound as bones shattered in the man's neck. He tossed the body Frieza's way, sending it flying into the spaceship.

Frieza spared a glance at the lifeless body before turning his attention back to the warrior, who stood ready for his next opponent. He sneered. "Hmph. Well. It seems the little dog has some bark to go with his bite, after all. Or should I say little _monkey_?" he queried, indicating the tail which had loosened itself from the warrior's suit and was now twitching behind him.

Geta straighten up, surprised. He hadn't realized his tail had unwound itself from his waist; it had a mind of its own. "_What_ did you call me?" he growled angrily. He _hated_ that particular slur more than anything and wished he could show Frieza just how much by creating an artificial moon. He knew that even if he knew _how_ to do that, it would take everything he had to accomplish it and then even more to sustain the transformation. That didn't count the fact that he'd never gone Oozaru before, and in all likeliness wouldn't be able to control his actions. He clenched his teeth, infuriated.

"Nice tail, filthy monkey," Frieza hissed. When Geta's growl became audible, he laughed. "Looks like I hit a nerve, didn't I?" he taunted, smirking. "Look what we have to play with now, Father." He licked his lips, feeling a sick thrill when the young man was unable to suppress a slight shudder. "Saiyans are the most _deliciously_ fun, I assure you." He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "While I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I do wonder where he came from, seeing as I destroyed his miserable little planet with but a nudge of my finger all those years ago. Such a loss." He gave Geta a lascivious look. "I wonder if there are any more around? I do miss my last little playtoy. No bother. If this one doesn't last long, I'll simply go collect him sooner."

Geta felt his stomach contract and forced the vomit he felt rising back. He knew exactly who Frieza was talking about. "You just made doubly sure that when I kill you today, Frieza," he spat, "I will do it slowly and painfully."

As Frieza was about to respond, the foot soldiers around him took action. "Why, you… No one threatens Lord Frieza! Attack!" one of them shouted. The group of soldiers charged.

Letting his hate fuel him, Geta raced forward as well to meet the pack of soldiers, making no further attempt to mask his ki or buffer his power level on their scouters. Fists flew and knees rose, and it only took seconds before the group was lying unconscious on the ground. Geta dropped the last body, whose torso was bent backward in an unnatural position for any species, and turned to look back at Frieza.

* * *

Nearby, several of the small band of rebels blinked in surprise. They stood stone still, staring into the distance, shocked looks on their faces. Bulma began to shuffle nervously.

"Guys? Hey, what's going on?" No one paid her any heed.

"I- I'm sensing another huge power level, and, uh, it..." Krillin stammered.

"This one makes Frieza seem like nothing," Tien exclaimed, finishing Krillin's line of thought.

Yamcha felt his heart beating faster as his fear renewed itself. "Y'know guys, it's not too late. We can still try to get off the planet if you want. Right?"

"You pathetic coward!" Vegeta chastised before turning his attention back to the scene before them. He growled, frustrated. _Incredible! I've never sensed anything like this before. Where did someone with this kind of power come from? Where did another _Saiyan_ come from?_

* * *

"Hmph. What a pleasant surprise," King Cold commented, sounding as bored as ever.

"You're right, father," Frieza agreed. "This may prove to be a bit more amusing than I had thought."

Geta's eyes narrowed. He was completely worn out, hungry and wanted to clean himself up, not waste his time here bickering with these idiots. So Frieza liked his tail, hmm? If the lizard's comments were any indication of the type of treatment his father had received at his hands, he wanted this pervert taken down sooner than later.

He knew just how he wanted it done.

"I've had more than enough of this dog and pony show," Geta spat. "I'm ending this right now."

King Cold let out a laugh. "One thing is certain. If nothing else, I'd say this guy here is quite the comedian." He seemed pleased at his observation.

"Hmph." Frieza laughed. "He is at that. I'll tell you what, punk. Let me give you a piece of advice. He who acquires his skills quickly is he who is the first to perish." Frieza seemed equally pleased at his own words of wisdom.

Geta snorted." Thanks for the hot tip," he commented sarcastically. "And now I have a tip for you, Frieza. Know your enemy. You've already made some pretty big assumptions about me, and since you know less than nothing about me, it's going to cost you."

Frieza shook with rage. "You insolent brat! You should really learn to control your tongue."

"Brat?" Geta questioned. "I'm twenty years old!"

"Well, your behavior speaks otherwise," Frieza retorted. "Besides, you aren't even man enough to show your face, you cowardly ape."

"Only to those who are either worthy of it, or those who I am about to kill," Geta commented dryly. His fist rose, the middle finger pointing upward. "Is this childish enough for you?"

King Cold sighed. "Just destroy him, already. We haven't got all day," he whined.

Frieza turned to him, annoyed. "_Really_, Father. Have some patience! I'm just trying to have a little fun, if you don't mind!" he snapped.

_This is ridiculous._ "No, actually I'm forced to agree with your father in that you don't have all day. This is an idiotic conversation to say the least and I'm ending it," Geta interjected.

"Well." Frieza eyed him in contemplation. "If you're going to be that way, then I guess all that's left is for me to decide just how I'm going to kill you."

"Enough of this!" Geta shouted. "It's time you understood who you're really up against. You're about to have a fight with a Super Saiyan- and I'm not talking about waiting around for Goku." He grinned savagely. "Oh yes. I know all about him." Little fragments of stone began rising from the ground as a golden aura of power began to radiate around him.

Frieza's eyes grew wide. "No, it can't be!" he shouted.

"What is he?" King Cold asked his son, astonished as the bodies of the fallen soldiers were raised into the air and flung away. Large chunks of stone tore out of the ground and went the same way as the bodies.

"Well, since you're about to die now, Frieza…" Geta undid his helmet and slid it off. "I'll indulge you."

Frieza stared at him blankly, then began to laugh. "How did you grow so much, you pathetic, weak excuse of a Saiyan? I thought I beat you 'till you didn't grow any more! And however did you get that tail back? My, but you had me fooled for a moment there. Let me guess- you found the Namekian dragonballs and made a wish to get all better!" he taunted.

Emotionlessly, Geta stared at him as his hair flashed gold and his eyes teal. "Did it ever occur to you that I just might not be who you think I am?" His tail flicked back and forth behind him. Even it shone gold.

Frieza gaped at him. "It's… it's impossible!"

* * *

The ground began to shake forcefully. "It sounds like the fight's starting without us!" Tien shouted.

Bulma fell to the ground. "Ooh… somebody stop this thing, I wanna get off!"

"It might be my dad!" Gohan exclaimed.

"You think?" Krillin seemed skeptical.

"Who else would try to take on Frieza alone?"

Krillin didn't have a good answer. "I don't know."

Vegeta didn't seem convinced either. _Kakarrot? No! I absolutely refuse to believe it! There's no _way_ his power level could have increased this much! It's impossible! Even if he _is_ a Super Saiyan!_ His eyes widened. Either this individual was the miracle he'd mentioned earlier, or an even greater threat than the one they'd come to face.

* * *

Frieza watched, terrified, as the young man transformed before him. King Cold noted his son backing off a few paces.

"So this is a Super Saiyan," he commented, unafraid.

Frieza continued to shake with fear. "It's those _eyes_…" He couldn't tear his own away, remembering the way Goku's looked on Namek. "They have the same eyes!" Suddenly, his terror turned into anger and he glared at the Saiyan standing before him.

Geta gave him a smirk that would have filled his father's heart with pride. Angry at being mocked, Frieza fired a blast at him.

"Ha! Take that, you filthy monkey!" Frieza crowed.

King Cold observed the fire burning in the distance. "My… I'd say that was all rather anticlimactic, wouldn't you? I mean, he certainly didn't last very long, now did he?"

"Well, what did you expect?" Frieza replied snidely. "He was _only_ a-" He trailed off, eyes wide in terror as the smoke began to clear. Geta stood in it, completely unharmed and looking rather peevish. Again, Frieza's fright turned to anger, and he let out a growl.

"I really hope that's not the best you can do," Geta said casually. "You may as well give up now. You aren't going to win."

"We'll just see about that, boy! Take _that!_" he shouted as he fired a large energy blast from the palm of one hand.

"Frieza!" King Cold exclaimed. "You'll destroy us all!"

To Frieza's dismay, Geta held out his hand to receive the blast. _Ah, just what I needed._

"What?" Frieza exclaimed. The Saiyan was completely unscathed, and what was worse, he had absorbed the energy of the entire blast.

Geta crossed his arms and smirked at his adversary. "Nice try, Frieza," he quipped, "although when I absorb attacks, I usually prefer energy that's not so vile."

"This Saiyan is really something else," King Cold observed, earning a glare from his son.

"You've had two chances to put your money where your mouth is and kill me, Frieza. What do you say we play fair and give me a turn before you take another one?" Geta mocked him, laughing when the lizard scowled.

"Shut up, you miserable Saiyan! It's time I put an end to this." Chuckling, Frieza levitated up to hover above Geta and pointed at him, an energy ball reminiscent of the one he used to blow up planets growing rapidly at the tip of finger. He laughed maniacally as it rapidly grew bigger.

King Cold grew impatient. "Hurry up!" he demanded. "Are you going to end this or not?"

"Oh, just watch me, Father!" Frieza screamed, throwing the blast. "Now you're dead, you little piece of trash!" He laughed as his target stood his ground, allowing the blast to hit him and begin sinking slowly into the ground.

"You know Frieza, you could have done this from the start and saved us a good deal of effort," King Cold commented as his son landed beside him on his perch atop the spaceship.

"There's just no pleasing you sometimes, father," Frieza whined in complaint. He turned, noting the giant ball of ki's descent abruptly halt and actually begin to rise. "There's no way!" he exclaimed as the young Saiyan walked toward him, holding the enormous ball of energy up as effortlessly as he would a platter. "H-how?"

"Impossible! King Cold shouted in disbelief.

Frieza jumped down from the spaceship. "Why you little…"

"Excuse me," Geta began politely. "I believe you accidentally dropped this. Is it yours?"

Angrily, Frieza shot a small blast at the huge ki ball, causing it to become unstable and explode.

"Well done, Frieza. It only took you four tries to destroy that pathetic Saiyan." King Cold began laughing mockingly at his son.

"I was just warming up, Father. That's all. Really!" Frieza pouted.

King Cold continued to laugh. "Of course, Son. Of course."

Unbeknownst to them, Geta was watching from a cliff above them. He created an energy blast in his hands and aimed carefully. He had to get this just right to do what he had in mind. He paused, deciding to wait for a moment, and reabsorbed the ki ball. _Hmmm... who says I can't have any fun before I kill him?_

A deep throated, sinister laugh echoed inside the crater. "Did you really think I'd be that easy to kill, Frieza? Tsk, tsk, silly man. It's _my_ turn, now."

* * *

The eerie sound of Geta's voice carried out from the crater. "Was that a laugh?" Krillin asked, feeling a shiver creep up his spine.

"Yes," Piccolo confirmed, one ear tilted as he listened intently. "Now, be quiet so I can hear what it is they're saying."

"Finally!" Vegeta groused. "Yes, shut the hell up already!"

* * *

"Your turn?" Frieza repeated angrily. "Why, you little punk! You may have avoided my attacks so far, but I've never met a Saiyan yet who was able to defeat me!" he declared, completely disregarding his battle on Namek with Goku.

"Evidently not, idiot," came the disinterested response. "You're here polluting the air with your foul stench."

* * *

Piccolo sniggered. "I'm beginning to like this guy," he muttered.

"What did he say?" Gohan asked excitedly. "I can't hear that far away."

"He insulted Frieza, that's all. Now, hush and let me listen!"

* * *

Frieza fairly shook with rage. "That's it! When I find you, I'm going to tear you to pieces with my bare hands, you filthy ape!" he screamed.

Another laugh echoed through the air. "Not if I kill you first, you revolting lizard," Geta retorted. "Here's for calling me an ape. And oh, by the way... before you die, your last thought will be that it was at the hands of a Saiyan."

"You'll never destroy me, monkey!" Frieza screamed. "Show yourself, coward!"

"Awww, what's the matter? Aren't you able to find me, Frieza?" Even while he powered up again, he'd been masking his ki, and the lizards had no idea where he was. "Try this on for size. Now die, you sick son of a bitch!" Geta shouted, screaming in fury as he released the energy from his hands. _"Galic Gun!"_

"What a stupid monkey," Frieza shouted, laughing. "Thinking he could possibly harm..." He sensed the energy heading his way and just managed to leap aside, but the glowing purple blast incinerated King Cold immediately.

"Ooops, missed you." Geta laughed mockingly. "My bad!"

* * *

From their vantage point, the small group witnessing the fight could see the mysterious warrior from his hiding place. They watched his movements, fascinated, as he placed both hands facing the same direction behind his back at the side of his body. Energy glowed as he turned both palms outward while flinging his hands forward, releasing quite an impressive burst of power. They let out a collective gasp as the huge flash of purple light engulfed the sky, some of the backlash heading their way.

"Oh, Kami! Get down!" Bulma shrieked, diving down to the ground. The others wisely followed suit.

The devastation from the blast finally passed and they all jumped up to their feet. "What did he yell?" Bulma asked. "Was that-"

Vegeta's mouth had dropped open in surprise, but now he glowered in anger, his brow creased. "Yes, that was a Galic Gun! That's _my_ attack!" he shouted. "How did he pull that off so effortlessly? I never showed anyone else how to execute it!"

"Well, obviously somebody did, sweet cheeks," Bulma contradicted him. She turned her attention back to the fight. "Oh, wow... that was some hit. It took out King Cold, but look, Frieza's still alive!"

* * *

"Father!" Frieza shrieked, looking for Geta fruitlessly. "You miserable monkey! When I get my hands on you-" Too late, he looked up to find his enemy above him, hands raised above his head in a two-handed fist, yelling a battle cry as he descended upon him.

As he powered back up, Geta's hands met their target squarely in the head. As Frieza fell, Geta disappeared and reappeared below him, thrusting his knee into Frieza's belly and driving him back up into the air. He repeated this move several times, and, knowing where the small group of warriors stood, knocked the lizard a little closer each time. His last blow landed the creature a safe distance behind them, startling the group. Bulma screamed and hid behind Piccolo, figuring he was big enough to block anything that happened to come her way.

Geta looked down at the small group. He was still far enough away that they could not make out his face, and since his hair was tied back in order to fit underneath the helmet there was no way they could really tell what he looked like. Reattaching the helmet to the neck opening of his gear, he raced over to where Frieza had landed.

"Had enough, lizard?" he hissed. Frieza hauled himself to his hands and knees, eyes narrowed with hatred, and spit upon his hated enemy's foot. Geta did not look amused. "So, you like my tail, do you?" he demanded, arms crossed over his chest. The thick tail whipped down and struck Frieza in the face, sending him sprawling. "Well, it doesn't like you!" With that, his tail lashed out and wound itself around the unfortunate lizard's neck, choking him. "I don't like you myself!" He landed a punch on Frieza's back, causing him to let out a grunt.

Frieza's own tail whipped out in Geta's direction but, expecting this, Geta grabbed it with both hands and blew it off rather casually with a ki blast. Frieza screamed as the remains of his tail hit the ground, blood trickling from the wound. He clawed at Geta's tail with his fingers, trying fruitlessly to free himself.

Grinning ferally, Geta resumed pummeling him, knowing full well that Frieza had done this to Vegeta on Namek. Déjà vu crept into the minds of the onlookers who had witnessed the beating as blood spurted from the vile Lord's mouth and his body hung limply.

Vegeta watched the beating, feeling extremely uncomfortable, not only because some of the others there had witnessed him being beaten in the same way, but because this warrior's method of punishment was so coincidental that it was almost as if he'd been there when it happened. _This is getting way too personal..._

Geta stopped when grunts of pain no longer accompanied the beatings and peered at his victim. _Ah good. Still alive._

"Is… is he coming over _here_ with Frieza?" Puar squeaked in fear.

"It sure looks like it," Krillin answered, gaping. He was amazed by what had just happened. Not only was this guy obviously Saiyan, but he'd just beat the daylights out of Frieza, and in the exact same manner Frieza had beaten Vegeta.

The young Saiyan continued to approach the group, causing them to back off a step. Suddenly he disappeared, reappearing a few paces in front of a startled Vegeta. He dropped the unfortunate Iceling in front of him and hauled him up, kicking him in the back of the knees. Frieza was forced to kneel before his hated adversary, unable to stand and save face.

The young man's head lowered and his right fist rose up to cover his heart.

"A gift for you, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans," he murmured, backing away from the astonished prince. He powered down and stood aside, head still respectfully lowered but watching to see what would happen next.

Overcoming his surprise, Vegeta wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Should he be offended that this probably third-class warrior had embarrassed him by doing what he himself could not accomplish and then offering him the coup de grâce, or prideful because Frieza had fallen at the hands of a Saiyan and that he, the Prince of Saiyans, had been given the honor of finishing him off himself? He didn't even know for certain that this man _was_ a Saiyan, although it was pretty obvious. How that could be the case was shoved to the back of his mind for later as the opportunity for the latter won out, his blood thirst heightening at an alarming level. He turned to the group and sneered. "If you thought what this punk did was brutal, you weaklings had better cover your eyes and run now," he warned, "because that was _tame_ compared to what I'm going to do to this filthy lizard."

Needless to say, they took his advice.

* * *

When there was nothing but ashes left of Frieza, Vegeta turned to the man who'd delivered them and crossed his arms. "Explain yourself, warrior. Just who are you, and where did you come from?"

Gohan stepped forward. "He's a Saiyan, Vegeta," he announced. "He's a _Super_ Saiyan! You saw him-uff!" He was cut off by Vegeta's hand in his face.

"How could he be a Saiyan, Boy? Your idiot father and I are the only ones left besides you and the Woman's whelp," he snarled, eliciting a gasp of insult from Bulma.

"You stinking creep!" she screeched. "How can you refer to your own son that way?"

He ignored her. "Well? Explain it to me, Brat! Or better yet, _you_ answer me!" he demanded of the warrior standing nearby.

The hair on Geta's tail bristled. _Ever the arrogant jerk,_ he thought, then mentally smacked himself. This was his father, arrogant jerk or not, and he at least deserved a measure of respect for that. "I am Saiyan," he replied curtly, "and I will answer the rest of your questions _after_ Goku has arrived."

"What?" Vegeta shouted, incensed. "I demand that you answer my question immediately! And what's more, who told you how to do a Galic Gun? That's _my_ attack that _I_ created myself!"

"He should be arriving in…" Geta glanced down at his watch, "two hours, thirteen minutes. Meanwhile, I would truly appreciate a hot shower and a meal, Ms. Briefs," he requested, ignoring his father, who stood sputtering beside him.

"Bulma, please," she corrected him cheerfully. "And of course, I'd be more than happy to accommodate whatever needs you have."

"Stay out of this, wench!" Vegeta roared. He didn't appreciate being pushed aside as if his demands meant nothing. "You will do as I-"

Bulma strode up to him defiantly. "Can it, Veg-head," she snapped, poking him hard in the chest. "He did, after all, just pull off your miracle by defeating Frieza, something _you_," she poked him again, "the oh so mighty Prince of all Saiyans, couldn't do. So why don't you just chill out and give the poor guy a break?" She turned to Geta. "After all that, I'll bet you're famished, aren't you?"

Before Vegeta could respond, Geta spoke up. "With all due respect, Ms. Briefs, he _is_ my prince, and I would appreciate it if you did not dishonor him in such a fashion." Vegeta smirked at her shocked look. "And I would appreciate it if you, Prince Vegeta, did not treat the mother of your son or any other female in such a deplorable fashion," he shot at Vegeta, suppressing a growl. He'd seen way too much of it during the most impressionable years of his life and didn't want the baby at home witnessing the same behavior.

"Why you-" Vegeta began, but he was interrupted by Bulma.

"Hey, how did you know…" she exclaimed, surprised. She had never actually said that she was the mother of Vegeta's aforementioned son, but upon further contemplation, after Vegeta's rude comment about 'the Woman's whelp' she figured that it _was_ pretty obvious. She was about to say something else but stopped when Geta suddenly sneezed violently.

He sniffled. "Is-" He didn't get very far when he sneezed again, even harder this time. "Is there a c-cat-" He sneezed a third time, violently enough that he nearly lost his helmet in the process.

"Hey, are you okay, mister?" Gohan frowned, concerned.

It was then that Geta noticed that Puar was hovering right next to him and let out a startled shriek quite unbefitting of a Saiyan warrior. "No! Get away!" he yelped, staggering backwards. He sneezed still again.

Bulma frowned. "What? It's only Puar. She's perfectly... harmless?" Her eyes widened when she realized that he was gasping for breath.

They all stood staring as the man who'd just pummeled Frieza himself without even breaking a sweat began to wheeze. He made a fist and hit himself in the chest. That obviously didn't work, because the wheezing noises rapidly faded as he found himself unable to draw in any more breath.

"Guys, he's turning purple," Krillin exclaimed. "Can you breathe, buddy?"

Geta shook his head violently in response, anxiously fishing through his pocket with trembling hands for the capsule that would save his life. _I forgot about the cat! Where is that capsule?_ He could feel his throat continue to constrict, and in his panic he hadn't drawn a very deep breath. _I'd better have stuck it in my gear!_

"It's not Puar, is it?" Gohan asked. His eyes widened when Geta nodded. "You're allergic to cats?" he continued incredulously. "Nothing makes _me_ sick, and I'm half human!"

Geta resisted the urge to flip his former Sensei off. The kid was, after all, only five years old and had, in his time, saved his butt numerous times. _Shut up, Gohan! Never been sick in my life... except when it comes to damn cats- thank goodness!_ Finding the capsule, he let it fall to the ground and dropped to his knees to grab the epi-pen which had been inside.

"Sick because of a mere feline? Hmph. That just _proves_ he's not Saiyan."

"I'd like to see _you_ do the things he was doing, Your Perfectness."

"Yamcha... Quit provoking him-"

"Would you like me to show you the meaning of pain, you scrawny little freak?"

"Shut up, both of you!"

The bickering stopped and a couple of them flinched when Geta broke the case of the epi-pen open and jabbed the needle into his thigh. After a moment he pulled it back out and began rubbing the area vigorously.

"Mister?"

Geta sat up as straight as possible, gasping for air greedily. He drew in a series of ragged breaths, his body relaxing as he finally felt relief. "I'm fine," he managed, dragging himself to his feet.

"All right, I've waited long enough," Vegeta snarled. "Who are you, Boy?"

Geta pursed his lips. He was embarrassed that this had happened, especially at such an inopportune time. "It's still better than two hours before Goku arrives. I think I'll take you up on that shower in the meantime." He powered up and blasted into the air.

Grabbing onto the closest person, who happened to be Vegeta since no one else had bothered to step forward- a smart move- Bulma readied herself to leave. "Come on, let's _go_ already!"

"Unhand me, Woman!" Vegeta growled, shaking her loose.

"Oh, really?" Bulma retorted. "That's not what you said that day Natsue said I could-"

"Oh, shut _up_, Woman," he hissed, grabbing her around the waist like a sack of potatoes and flying off after the rapidly disappearing warrior.

* * *

Geta landed on the front lawn and waited for the others, who arrived momentarily. He stood, arms crossed and a frown on his face. He didn't want to let on who he was just yet, but it had always disturbed him how his parents treated each other, most especially his father's behavior. His mother was a sweet, loving woman, despite her headstrong attitude, and it pained his heart to see her unhappiness. He scowled when Vegeta shoved her out of his grasp distastefully and crossed his arms upon landing.

Bulma picked herself up, retaining her dignity, and headed into the house. "This way," she prompted, opening the door and motioning for him to follow. "I'll see if I can't find you something to wear while you're showering." She paused, considering the task at hand. _This may prove to be more difficult than I'd thought._ "Exactly _how_ tall are you?"

"Uhm… seven two, two and a half," he muttered uncomfortably, not wanting the others to hear and mock his father. It was _indeed_ his father's blood which had gifted him his height, and Frieza's earlier comment was reinforcement of that truth.

"Ooookay… I don't know if I have much, but I'll look," she commented.

"As long as you have a robe I should be fine," he answered in a low voice. "I can always wash my clothes-"

Geta barely avoided colliding into Bulma as she stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him critically. "_These_ rags?" she exclaimed. "If I were you, I'd burn them. No offense," she added.

_Good ol' Mother._ "None taken. But before you do…" He sighed. "I'll explain along with everything else later."

Bulma sauntered into the bathroom and up to the linen closet, pulling out a huge fluffy towel and a wash cloth. "Here you go," she chirped, putting them on the countertop and turning back to the linen closet. "Robe, robe… I know I have a robe-ah!" Pulling it out, she unfolded it and regarded him, tilting her head and holding it up to him. Embarrassed, he allowed it, knowing better than to try to stop her.

"B, wouldja just leave the poor guy alone?" Krillin pleaded, noting the blush that peeked out from under the unfortunate man's face shield. "Just give him the robe and let him wash up, okay?"

"Cheese 'n' crackers Krillin, chill." She pursed her lips and shot him a look. "I don't want the 'poor guy' worrying about everyone-"

"It's fine, thank you," Geta interrupted, snatching the robe from her and shoving it next to the towel. "It will do nicely." He took a step toward the door, indicating his desire for privacy.

"Okay… any toiletries you might need should be in the medicine cabinet or under the sink. Let me know if you need anything else," Bulma responded, reaching for the doorknob to shut the door after herself. Just before the door closed, Geta reached out to hold it open.

"Before you go…" he began, reaching into a pocket of his gear and pulling out the capsule containing the time machine, "take this. It should answer a few of your questions." _And keep you occupied long enough to give me a decent amount of time to finish here,_ he thought with amusement. Bulma watched, absolutely fascinated, as he pressed his thumb against the little box, popping it open, then dropped the capsule in her hand.

"It's secured. What's the code?" she asked, examining it.

"I'll give you a hint," he responded, grinning. "It's the month and day of the birthday of someone… close to you." With that, he shut the door, leaving her alone in her confusion.

* * *

"It's the birthday of someone close to me is what he told me," she informed the group gathered around her. Only Vegeta stood by himself. Even Piccolo seemed mildly interested. "Let's see… I'll try Mom's. Hmm. Dad? No. Yamcha, what's your b-day? Wait! Don't tell me. June 10th," she said smugly as the sniggers started.

Yamcha sighed. "I forget your birthday _once_ and I never hear the end of it!"

"That didn't work… Krillin? You're sometime in February, aren't you?"

"Yup. February 22nd."

"Hmm. That didn't work, either. Gohan, what's Goku's birthday? I mean, the one he goes by. July, right?"

"Right. The 29th," Gohan responded.

Bulma sighed. Wrong again. "This is going to take forever!"

* * *

"I've been through every person's birth date that I can think of," Bulma moaned. "Still nothing!"

"Well, what about Vegeta's?" Krillin suggested. Vegeta let out a "hmph" and turned his head away.

Since Bulma had tuned Vegeta out and was still playing with the dials, she didn't notice his reaction. "I've already tried him. It didn't work, remember?"

"No, no. Not the _baby_ Vegeta, the adult one," Krillin corrected her.

Bulma snorted. "Mr. Sourpuss over there? Yeah right." She paused, turning the capsule around in her fingers in desperation. Her scientific mind couldn't handle not being able to crack such an easy thing, especially given the 'clue', which should have made it a piece of cake to solve. "Okay, whatever," she relented. "Hey Vegeta! What's your birthday?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I have no intention of participating in your ridiculous game, Woman," he retorted, turning his attention elsewhere.

Bulma's hands flew to her hips. "Then why are you standing around here wasting time with us weaklings instead of training, huh?" There was no response other than a low growl from the other side of the tree he was leaning against. She grinned. _Score one for Bulma!_ "Just tell me!"

"You _know_ she won't shut up until you tell her, so why don't you just get it over-"

"I can handle this myself Yamcha!" Bulma yelled. "Thank you so very much for your unsolicited and unwanted opinion."

Yamcha shrugged, grinning. "Just an observation, Babe."

"C'mon, Vegeta," she coaxed. "If you tell me, I won't bother-"

_Maybe she really _will _shut up if I tell her. It's not like it makes any difference if the morons know or not._ "Do you mean here or on planet Vegeta?" he interrupted.

Bulma blinked. She hadn't thought of that. "Oh. Right. Uhm… here, I guess," she ventured. When Vegeta didn't respond, she grew impatient. "Well?" she snapped. "Are you going to tell us or not?"

"Let me _think_, Woman!" Vegeta snapped back just as impatiently. "I know what it is on Vegeta. Let me correspond it to the correct day here," he growled. There was another brief pause, during which Bulma would have sworn to Kami she saw him counting on his fingers. "August 30th," he finally responded.

"Finally!" Bulma turned the little dials, but nothing happened. She cursed loudly and screeched in frustration, stomping her foot. "Oooh! This is infuriating!"

"Shut up and try turning the dials to 1502," Vegeta said grumpily. "_Please_ Kami, let it be right so she _shuts the hell up!_" he shouted to the sky, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"You ass- Kami!" she shouted, almost dropping the capsule as the little plunger popped out. A rash of goose bumps broke out over her flesh, making her shiver. Vegeta, of all people? "How… that doesn't make any sense."

"Yes, it does. Planet Vegeta's year is… was divided into months of a different length than on this planet, and we used more months than you do," he responded, coming around to lean up against the side of the tree facing them. "Whoever thought of that actually had a little sense."

Bulma faked a loud gasp. "Do my ears deceive me? Was that a compliment to the programmer I just heard?"

"However," Vegeta continued, ignoring her comment, "whoever the programmer is, he or she just stepped way over the line of becoming too personal," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Who would have known when my birthday was? _No one_ here would."

"You're right… this _is_ creepy. I mean, even I didn't know," Bulma agreed. "How could what's-his-name have known either? Who told him if he didn't know?"

"Open the capsule immediately," Vegeta ordered, "and get away from it." He poised himself, ready for action.

"But why would he want to hurt us? He's a Saiyan too, and he saved us from Frieza-"

"Shut your trap, Brat!" Vegeta shouted, silencing the young demi-Saiyan who'd unintentionally joined the growing list of someone who had rubbed his face in his failure. "Just open the damned capsule, Woman!"

Amazingly Bulma did not complain about being ordered around but just did as she was told. "Okay, I'm pushing the plunger now and we don't know what it is or how big, so everyone back off," she instructed, tossing the capsule into the grass and running back.

The capsule burst open, revealing a strange, round device made of glass and metal. A circle of curious onlookers formed around it and leaned in closer, puzzled as to what it might be.

"What is it?" Tien asked, voicing the questing they'd all been wondering.

Piccolo stepped forward, glancing over their huddled forms. "It looks like a pod large enough to transport one person," he decided. "See the seat and the controls?"

Bulma squeezed her way through the bodies so she could look from Piccolo's point of view. "You're… you're right," she breathed, reaching out to touch the small pod. They all jumped back in surprise as the glass dome opened.

"How did you know how to open it?" Gohan asked, amazed. "We didn't even know what it was until Piccolo said anything."

"Because…" Bulma paused, in shock herself. "Because it's… I have a very crude schematic of this pod in my lab," she whispered, her face white as a sheet. All eyes rose from the pod to look at her. "This one is infinitely better than my drafts, but it's definitely the same machine."

"What do you mean, Woman?" Vegeta demanded. "What is this device?"

She looked up at him and their eyes locked. "It's for time travel," she said in a small voice.

"Time travel, bah! Impossible," Vegeta dismissed the idea with a sneer and a wave of his hand.

"I disagree, Vegeta," Piccolo contradicted him. "I think it's entirely possible. If this mysterious man did indeed travel here from another time, and my assumption would be the future, it would explain a lot. How did he know Frieza would be here, and arrive at the precise time and place he did? What if he's right about Goku coming back today? What else does he know? He said he would 'answer all of your questions' when you asked him who he was." His arms folded over his chest.

Bulma was only half listening to the conversation, absorbed in her examination of the pod. Could it really be her design? Was it truly her time capsule? She climbed inside and sat in the seat, touching and peering at everything. A wave of excitement rushed over her. This was… wait! She grabbed a small, worn picture from where it had been stuck near the control panel and stared at it in shock. It was a snapshot of her holding a baby that looked remarkably like an older version of her own baby in one arm, the other arm wrapped around Vegeta's neck to entrap him. She had apparently caught Vegeta unaware and was in the act of kissing his cheek, obvious amusement on her face at the startled and peeved look he was giving to whoever _dared_ to photograph him. It would have been a normal enough picture, except for the fact that the baby in it had to be well over a year old, and she did _not_ remember a situation even remotely familiar to this one where a picture had been taken during the short time Vegeta had actually been on Earth. Even if she did remember such a picture, how did it get inside this pod? "Vegeta!" she shrieked, making them all jump nearly out of their skins. "Look at this! I know who this guy is! You have to see this picture!"

"Stop shrieking, Bulma!" he shouted, snatching the photograph she held up from her hand. "This had better be…" He stopped mid-sentence and stared at the picture, a look on his face none of them had ever thought they'd see the likes of- wide eyed and gaping. His eyes slowly moved from the picture to Bulma. "You don't think… _no!_"

"I'm _telling_ you, Vegeta, it's got to be! How else can you explain this picture, or anything else that happened today?" she demanded. "Look at him!" She pointed to the baby. "Even if that wasn't you he's much too old! This hasn't even happened yet!"

Vegeta's mouth opened, then shut. He stared at her, blinked twice, and then flew for the house before anyone could ask to see the picture. Bulma scrambled out of the pod, following him as fast as her feet could carry her. Exchanging confused looks, everyone else ran toward the house.

* * *

Geta sighed in relief, draping his towel around his neck to catch any drips from his long wet hair. That shower and shave had felt _so_ good. It had been ages since he'd indulged in a luxury like this! _Luxury,_ he thought ruefully, _and me a Briefs!_ He put on the robe, dismayed to find that although it covered him, it didn't leave much to the imagination. "I'd better find something else," he mumbled, reaching for the doorknob. Just as his hand closed around it he paused, feeling for the ki of the others. They were still outside, to his relief, no doubt frustrated over not being able to open the capsule. He made out a shriek and a curse word from Bulma and grinned, exiting the bathroom and heading for the bedrooms. He poked his head into one of them. "Yep, this is still the one," he mumbled again as he recognized some of Bulma's things. He headed for the dresser and after a short search found what he was looking for. "Clean underwear!" he almost shouted in glee as he slipped the boxers he'd found on.

He discarded the robe in the bathroom and was heading toward the kitchen when he heard a noise. He paused, waiting for it again. Sure enough, the wail of an infant could be heard from one of the rooms. He went inside and peered down into the bassinette by the bed to see the infant version of himself, fists flailing and face red as he screamed loudly enough to wake the dead. _This is weird,_ he thought to himself as he lifted the squalling infant up. "No wonder you're screaming. You stink, kiddo," he commented sympathetically, laying the baby on the changing table nearby. As he changed its diaper, the baby quit crying and looked up at him with big, glistening blue eyes. Geta couldn't help but grin. "I was a cutie," he crooned at the baby, picking him up again and taking him along to the kitchen. "Yes, I was!" The baby burbled happily, satisfied now that he was nestled securely in the crook of his 'big brother's' arm after having spent a good part of the day locked in the lab then alone in his crib with no one but robots for company. This was much better! Poking around, Geta found a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and almost cheered in his excitement. Grabbing the Doritos, he headed for the den and picked up the remote, flipping channels until he found something with which to amuse himself.

* * *

Vegeta burst into the house and flew in the direction of the ki he'd sensed, Bulma hot on his heels. Loud laughter came from the den and, looking at each other in surprise, they headed that direction.

Upon entering the den, they found the young man in question sitting cross-legged on the couch with his back to them watching a rerun of Saturday Night Live. The studio audience's laughing was drowned out by another roar of hysterics as he shook with laughter, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. "Oh, I love Will Ferrell… hey, not _that_ way, so don't look at me like that, you munchkin," he intoned softly, his voice with a teasing note to it. As the television got a little quieter, they could hear a soft thumping noise. Presently a loud burp issued from the couch and, chuckling, their visitor picked up the source of the noise and held it up in front of his face.

"Hey, _good _one! You did yourself proud, kiddo!" he exclaimed to the baby he held, who cooed and patted one chubby hand against his caretaker's face. Bulma's eyes widened in alarm at the confirmation that a stranger was indeed holding her baby and started forward, but Vegeta's hand shot out to hold her back. Aware that he was being watched, the young man straightened up and placed the baby over his shoulder, continuing to pat the little back gently. He cleared his throat before speaking. "He was smelly and hungry, so we took care of that, didn't we little buddy?"

The pair standing in the doorway heard the deep voice from the other side of the couch and exchanged still another quick glance. When they didn't respond, he took in a deep breath, swallowed and prepared to turn around.

"V... Geta?" Bulma squeaked, her voice a tiny whisper. Based on the resulting twitch from the occupant of the couch, she knew they had guessed appropriately.

The baby hiccupped, breaking the silence.

Geta turned his head slowly to face them over the back of the couch.

An almost mirror image of the man standing beside her greeted Bulma's vision. Aside from the addition of a rather distinguished looking mustache and goatee, he had the same handsome face, the same dark hair with its sharply defined hairline, the same pained look on his face, in his eyes... in those piercing_ blue_ eyes. He smiled, eyes softening when he saw her. "Hello, young mother," he greeted softly.

Bulma promptly fainted.

Somehow expecting this despite his mother's tough girl attitude, Geta moved faster than the eye could follow to catch her in his free arm just as her knees started to buckle. "Mother?" he asked nervously. "Mother, are you all right?" When she didn't answer, he turned to his father. "Here, hold him," he instructed, slipping the baby into its startled father's hands without waiting for an answer. He patted Bulma's cheek gently. "Mother?"

Her eyes fluttered open, then widened as she saw who it was supporting her. "It's all right," his voice whispered soothingly. "Here, sit down on the couch, okay?" He guided her over to it and sat her down. "Did you want a glass of water-"

"Hey!" Vegeta shouted peevishly, "that's mine!"

Bulma scowled at him. "You don't have to be so possessive, Vegeta," she griped, scowling at him. "My goodness, you'd almost think he cared," she said sarcastically, still hurt by the way he'd been treating her in front of the others.

"I'm not talking about you, you foolish woman!" Vegeta contradicted her. He pointed to Geta. "I'm talking about those!"

"Yeah, aren't they great? I've never worn silk boxers before," Geta commented, grinning at his mother so Vegeta couldn't see. A slow smile found its way across her face. Was he deliberately trying to tick off his father? She was beginning to like him already.

"Yes, and they're _mine_," Vegeta spluttered. "How dare you invade my private space and-"

Geta winked at his mother before turning to face his father. "Hey, hey, Father, chill… I just didn't think you'd want to see me with my junk hanging out from underneath my robe," he explained, managing to hide his amusement at his father's expression upon hearing his son's choice of words. "If you feel so strongly about it, I'll give 'em back," he promised, his thumbs hooking underneath the elastic at the waist. "Here ya go-"

"Hold it there, Buster," Bulma interrupted with a giggle, then paused. "Wait a minute here… what son of _mine_ would never have owned silk boxers?" She shook her head, then shrugged. "Anyway, I think your dear old dad can spare a pair of underwear," she retorted, shooting an accusing look Vegeta's way.

Just then, the outside door leading to the kitchen burst open, and they heard voices as the rest of the group ran in.

"I can't believe she locked us out!"

"Can't say I blame her, Yamcha. I'd lock you out too."

"Ouch! Krillin one, Yamcha zippo!"

"Aren't you at all the least bit interested in this time travel device or this mysterious Saiyan? I for one want some answers."

Geta's eyes widened, realizing that his current state of undress was about to be noticed by the rest of the group, who were rapidly approaching their way. He shot his parents a beseeching look. "I don't… I don't want them to see me like this," he almost pleaded, grabbing the ends of the towel around his neck and wringing them in his hands. "I don't want anyone's pity." It was then, now that the towel was no longer covering her son's upper body, that Bulma realized how thin, how utterly _emaciated_ he was. He turned to face the doorway, exposing his back to them.

Bulma gave Vegeta a little nudge to get his attention without speaking and indicated their son. "He's so skinny!" her lips read.

"I see, Woman," Vegeta responded in kind. He looked shocked. Shouldn't the son of a powerful prince and the most independently wealthy woman in Western Country- if not the world- have access to the absolute best of everything? How was this even possible?

Each vertebrae of Geta's spine jutted sharply against his skin, which clung close to his ribs and shoulder blades. His bent elbows were thin and knobby. The young man was starving. He had hardly an ounce of anything other than skin on his frame. His body was covered by a multitude of scars, bruises and other obvious signs of physical abuse. How he had held up against the likes of Frieza and not keeled over was a complete mystery.

"Hey, guys!" Krillin shouted. "What's going on? Did you figure out who this mystery person is yet?"

"Vegeta…" Bulma looked at him imploringly as she moved over toward their son. "Take care of this, okay?"

A slow smile spread over his face. "Surrrrre… no problem." He started for the doorway.

Bulma sighed. "No blasting anyone."

"You spoil all my fun," he mock pouted, exiting the room. He only made it a couple of paces before the others caught up to him.

"Is he really a Saiyan, Vegeta?" Gohan asked breathlessly, excitement radiating from his face. He paused when he saw the more than annoyed look on Vegeta's face.

"Leave," Vegeta commanded, pointing the way they'd come.

Piccolo growled at him. "I want to know what's going on, Vegeta," he demanded, "especially if this individual is indeed from the future."

Vegeta's teeth bared ferociously. "The _Woman_ requested that you leave," he responded, the vicious look becoming an almost gleeful smirk. "Didn't you, Bulma?" he called over his shoulder.

"Don't _make_ me come out there, gentlemen," Bulma's voice responded. "There will be time for this later. Give us some space, okay?" She paused. "Veg, what was that you were saying about wanting humanoid training bots? You know, the kind that shriek in pain and bleed all over when you rough them up?"

The smirk widened into a Cheshire cat's grin. So, she had remembered that conversation. _The woman isn't as bad to put up with as she tries to be. Especially when she's mad... that's when she's _damn_ hot..._ Vegeta caught himself before his mind got too far off track. This was not the best time to be thinking with his shorts.

"Uhm, guys?" Yamcha sounded like he was this side of wetting himself. "Bulma's right. We can come visit later, right?"

"You're such a wussy boy," Gohan chided him. "Even I'm scared of fewer things than you, and I'm only six."

_"Now!"_ Vegeta shouted.

The baby in his arms began to wail.

"Awww, damn it!" Vegeta cursed, suddenly realizing that not only was his infant son crying and he had absolutely no idea of how to make him stop, but he'd been caught cradling a baby in his arms and was unconsciously patting its fat little leg gently. Not a very macho or princely thing to be doing. "Get outta here!"

"We'll meet you back there in… how much time is left?" Bulma paused and they could hear a low voice rumble to her in return. "In almost an hour and a half. Now scoot! Give the poor guy an hour's worth of privacy, will you?"

Grumbling, the group began to trudge back to the front door.

"No fair, I wanted to see who it was."

"He's gotta be a Saiyan! Did you see his tail? Cool!"

"Did you see how Vegeta was holding the baby? He'd better use two hands or Bulma will wring his neck."

"Good, maybe Bulma will kill him and I-"

"I'd give it up if I were you, Yamcha… wait a minute. Vegeta _was _holding a baby. Never thought I'd see-"

Their voices were quieted as the door shut behind them. Vegeta exhaled loudly and locked the door. "Good riddance." He looked down at his tearful son and grimaced. "Yeah, me too, Brat," he grumbled, heading back to the den.

"Just humor the mother in me, okay?" Bulma was inspecting her rather embarrassed and humiliated son closely when Vegeta reentered the den. "Geta... dear Kami, how did this happen to you?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she raised them to meet his.

"Don't you think the poor guy deserves to be left alone for even a second, Woman? Quit harassing him, or don't blame me when he blasts you." Vegeta paused as the baby's wails grew louder. "And what the hell is the matter with this brat?" he demanded tersely. "He won't stop screaming, and it's hurting my ears!"

"First of all, your demeanor and tone of voice are _not_ helping," Bulma began calmly, not bothering to turn around to look at him. "You're obviously putting out a lot of angry vibes that he doesn't like. Secondly, that's an 'I'm uncomfortable' cry, and since he was just changed and fed, I'd wager that either he still has some air in his tummy or he doesn't like the way you're holding him. After the burp Geta got out of him, I'd guess the latter over the former." She turned around with a critical eye, then one eyebrow shot up. "Dearest," she began, amused by the glare she got in response, "I realize that you've been without your tail for a while, but you're still the honest to goodness _last_ person I thought I'd have to scold for doing that, especially after the way you chewed Yamcha to bits today." She nodded toward them with her chin.

"What are you babbling about, Woman?" Vegeta demanded, his eyes following her gaze. Suddenly he started in surprise; he too had caught the infant's tail between his arm and body. An actual look of distress crossed his face as he quickly removed the tiny tail from its trap, inspecting it carefully. "Okay, all right. I didn't do it on purpose, Brat. Why are you still shrieking? I'm not yelling at you," he told the wailing baby between clenched teeth. "Woman, here. Take him. I don't know anything about brats and I sure don't know what _he_ wants." Vegeta held his son out toward its mother.

Bulma shook her head. "It's about time you learned, then." She turned away. "Lift him up and hold him gently against your shoulder," she instructed him. "I know you've seen me do it and Geta just held him that way not two minutes ago, so you can't play ignorant like you have no idea what I'm talking about." She eyed her son. "You _do_ prefer Geta, right?"

"Geta please, yes. It's easier that way."

"Well, I suppose VJ it is for the baby, then," Bulma mused.

Vegeta glared at the back of her head. Even worse than the woman expecting him to babysit this brat was her changing the subject completely and then leaving him out of the conversation; he was positive she was doing it simply to annoy him. "You're joking, right? The Prince of All Saiyans does not play nursemaid to infant brats," he declared haughtily. "Besides, he'll probably just throw up all over me." He paused, sneering. "Although it could only be an improvement to this ugly _pink_ shirt you've forced me to wear."

"Good! I'm glad we're in agreement then," Bulma declared happily. "Yeah, he's been crying a lot so he probably will throw up. Good call." She giggled at the noise Vegeta made. "Come, now. That's what burping cloths are for." She directed her attention to Geta. "You didn't happen to bring one with you, did you?"

Geta shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be in the middle of this. "Uhm, yes... On the couch over there," he mumbled, pointing. He crossed his arms over his chest, shivering as a chill ran over him. _I really need to find something to wear._

Vegeta growled and got the cloth. "If last time is any indication, you won't shut up until I do this, will you?"

"Nope," came the immediate answer. "Just lay the cloth over your shoulder and rest the baby... that's it. See? That isn't so bad, is it? Now, rub his little back gently. See? He _loves_ being held by men." She smiled.

The child had indeed quieted and was resting comfortably against Vegeta's shoulder, but what Bulma had said completely unnerved him. He looked down at the baby with a disturbed expression. "You're not saying this kid is..." He shot a look at Geta. "You like other males?" Vegeta's voice sounded panicked.

Geta raised his hands up, forming the 'time out' sign. "Whoa, whoa... hold on. With babies it's a security thing, I assure you," he informed his wary looking father. "They feel safe. Although," he continued, absently fingering his goatee in contemplation, "Mother did say that I never liked Yamcha to hold me." He grinned as Bulma began to laugh. "I was evidently a child of exquisite taste, even as a baby. _But_, that having been said, I feel I must assure you that I am _straighter_ than the proverbial nail." A little smile flickered at the corner of his mouth as he obviously recalled something specific to mind.

Vegeta let out his breath, relieved. "That's all I'd need. Princ_ess_ Vegeta jokes," he grumbled.

"Oh, calm down, Veggie," Bulma chided.

"Quit calling me that!" he snapped tersely.

"No one is going to be making any princess jokes," Bulma continued, ignoring his outburst.

"Maybe not, but they were laughing when they saw me holding this _kid_," he shot back distastefully.

"Excuse me, your great and holy eminence-"

"At least you've finally got _something _right today."

"Uhm... Mother, Father? I think we should-"

"Get _over_ yourself, Vegeta. You're not as glorious and awesome as you'd like to think you are," Bulma informed him sarcastically.

"And maybe you're not as perfect and gorgeous and intellectually above the rest of us as you openly claim to be." Vegeta smirked at her as her face flushed with anger.

"Hey, why don't we-"

"There is nothing embarrassing about holding a baby, especially one's own child. If you're going to let the fact that someone saw you holding your_ own son_ bother you, then there's something a lot deeper than worrying about what other people think about you doing that going on upstairs than you care to admit!" she retorted, pointing to her temple for emphasis.

"Oh? I'd better take it from the experts then." Vegeta's sarcasm was thick enough to spread with a knife. "What, pray tell, could that be?"

"Hey, guys..."

"For your information," Bulma responded, her own words thick with sarcasm, "I _do_ have a minor in human psychology. But I'm positively delighted to inform you that you've been just as easy, if not easier, to manipulate than the rest of us inferiorly lobed humans." Bulma smirked at him as he began to growl audibly. "Where would you like me to start? I've got two especially good ones you can pick from. Would you like to talk about your 'Daddy never loved me' complex or the 'Everyone picks on me because I have to shop in the little boy's pants section' one?"

Vegeta went positively red with rage. "That-"

"Stop it now! Both of you!" Geta bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Would you like _me_ to tell _you_ how this conversation will continue? Father will yell, 'That does it, Woman!' and Mother will say, 'And just what are you going to do, huh?' and follow it with some sarcastic comment." His clawed hands covered his face, the fingertips rubbing at his temples. "Kami, I grew up with this garbage for the first three years of my life, which as you know are the most impressionable ones, and I'll be Kami _damned_ if I'm going to idly sit by and watch you two do this to that child, too!" he shouted. "Do neither of you have any shame? Or is it acceptable to heap verbal abuse on each other in front of your own children?"

The room fell dead silent, then the baby began to wail.

Geta drew in a deep breath. "I apologize," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No, you're right," Bulma told him, her voice wavering slightly. "You've actually given me a lot of insight. I'm sorry that you had to see this type of behavior growing up. And I'm sorry I said what I did to you too, Vegeta," she murmured, swallowing her pride. "It was demeaning and unfair." She stared away in the distance, not looking at either off them.

Geta looked at his father, shooting one eyebrow up as if to demand 'say something!' of him.

"Yeah," Vegeta mumbled, figuring rightly that his son would be just as stubborn as his mother could be. He rubbed the whimpering baby's back gently. _What would be the point of ignoring the child now other than proving I'm an even bigger jerk than they already think I am?_ /Hush now, child,/ he murmured in his native tongue. /Stop crying./

"Let's just start over, please," Bulma entreated. "Geta, you need something to wear." She pursed her lips in contemplation. "I honestly don't think I can come up with anything here."

Geta fought down a feeling of panic. "Do you know where you can get something, at least for now?"

She thought about it a moment. "Do you know your inseam?" she asked, eyeing him with scrutiny. _This is going to be difficult._

Geta shook his head. "Sorry... I don't know any of them. I haven't been measured in ages." He paused. "Other than my height, anyway." He looked uncomfortable.

Bulma pursed her lips. "There's a store in Satan City that sells hard to find sizes. I could probably find you something for now until we can make it to my tailor. He's excellent." She looked over at Vegeta. "You could use some new clothes, yourself."

Vegeta scowled. "I don't want-"

"All right, it's settled then," Bulma decided. "You two watch the baby and get ready as best as you can while I'm gone. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No problem," Geta agreed. Vegeta didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'm off. Whoops, wait a second." She walked over to Geta and stood beside him. "Let's see... your waist comes up to here on me. Show me your arm..." She compared it to her own. "Okay, one last thing. I know what chest and waist size your father takes, so let's compare." With that, she gave her surprised son a hug, smiled, and walked out of the room, winking at Vegeta as she left.

Geta smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting how much one little hug can say, don't you think? I wonder if she'll hug the salesman, too."

"Hmph," was the only response he got, but Geta could see a faint blush that his father was unable to hide.

"I hope it doesn't take Mother too long," Geta commented. "I'm cold." He shivered and put the towel back around his shoulders. "I suppose it might also help somewhat if I finished drying my hair," he mused.

Vegeta gave his son an odd look. "Why don't you just use your ki to dry it?"

Geta looked a little embarrassed. "Well, as you can see, my hair has gotten _quite_ long and is in serious need of a cut. Let's just say that while I inherited your gravity defying hair, right now it would make yours look tame." He grinned sheepishly. "Unless you'd like to help me cut it," he suggested.

Vegeta's eyebrow raised; cut another Saiyan's hair? "I'd prefer that you ask your mother to do it," he responded. "On planet Vegeta, when a Saiyan's hair had been cut, everyone knew that he had been disgraced. Your hair is like Kakarrot's brat's hair in that it grows. A full-blooded Saiyan's hair will never grow again once it has reached a certain length."

"That's okay, Father," Geta told him. "I'll ask Mother to do it." He headed for the bathroom.

Vegeta felt curiosity get the better of him and for once decided to indulge in it. "Geta?" he called. _I'm still trying to get used to that horrible nickname. Ugh!_

"Yes Father?" Geta responded, turning back to face his father.

Vegeta grinned. "Indulge me, Son, won't you?"

Geta blushed. "I look like a deranged troll doll," he complained. "Do you promise not to laugh?"

"I won't laugh," Vegeta promised.

A burst of ki shot through Geta's thick hair, drying it and making it stand up proud and tall. Very tall.

Vegeta's eyebrow went up again. "Heh." He grinned. "Probably the only other Saiyan I've seen with hair longer than that was Kakarrot's brother Radditz, but fortunately for him it grew downwards instead of up."

Geta allowed a crooked smile. "I'll be back in a minute," he replied dryly, leaving the room.

* * *

In a few minutes, the younger man returned, sporting a neatly done chonmage. Vegeta grinned some more. "That's better. Definitely not your typical_ Saiyan_ hair, but much better."

Geta shrugged. "Why not acknowledge the human in me too once in a while? Besides, it made wearing that helmet infinitely easier, I assure you." His eyes diverted to the infant on its father's lap and he grinned. "Aww, look at that."

The baby was fast asleep, his little mouth moving as if he were feeding. "I've always thought that was hysterical. I don't know why, I just do," Geta confessed. "They're so cute when they're asleep."

"You keep talking like that and you'll get the princess jokes for sure," Vegeta grumbled. He grabbed the remote control and turned on the television. "Crap," *flip* "utter crap," *flip* "boring crap..." *flip* *flip* *flip*

"I'm going to scream if you don't just pick something and leave it there!" Geta nearly shrieked. "Just when you stay at a channel long enough for me to think you're going to watch it, you change it again!

"You're just like your mother," Vegeta complained. He contemplated the movie on the channel currently on. "I guess this doesn't look too bad." He watched the 'shoot 'em up kill 'em good' movie for a few minutes, frowning. "This is worse than fake," he complained. "Blood doesn't really spray like that."

"I know," came the low voice from across the room.

Vegeta didn't ask, sensing that his son wasn't in the mood to elaborate. Instead, he tossed down the remote and looked down at his infant son, who had begun to squirm a little. The tiny fuzzy tail had wrapped itself around his wrist, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the miniature being he held, the young life he had been partially responsible in creating. Looking up, he saw Geta watching the television casually, his eyelids heavy; the young man was nodding off. Unafraid of being caught now, Vegeta took the opportunity to really truly take a good look at his infant son for the first time.

He ran a hand over the dark fuzzy hair on the baby's head. It was so soft and smooth. He examined the little face, easily seeing his own features much more predominately evident than Bulma's. He took the little tail between his fingers gently, knowing how sensitive it was, not wanting to hurt or wake the infant. A small twinge of envy stirred within him; Vegeta did miss his tail more than he was willing to admit. He paused when the baby wriggled a little but didn't awaken. Vegeta picked up one hand, amazingly small next to his own. He almost gasped in surprise when the tiny fingers curled around one of his own with a good, firm grip.

Almost as if he was aware that he was being watched, the baby opened its eyes. His line of vision eventually met his father's, and they stared at each other for a moment.

Vegeta felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation come over him, but couldn't express what it was. Gently extricating his hand from the baby's smaller one, as well as the fuzzy tail from around his wrist, he lifted his son to rest on his chest and leaned back onto the couch, one hand resting on the boy's back. He would have sworn that he heard the baby sigh.

What was almost a smile flickered across Vegeta's face. Don't get used to it, brat, he murmured in the Saiyan tongue. The baby rested its head on his chest contentedly and was promptly lulled back to sleep by his father's heartbeat. Taking one last look at the sleeping child he held, Vegeta followed suit soon after.

* * *

"Guys, I'm back!" Bulma announced, dropping her encapsulated car on the table next to her purse. She frowned when no one answered and headed for the den. "Guys- oh!" Bulma's fingertips reached up to touch her lips as she smiled with pleasant surprise.

Geta was snoring on the loveseat and Vegeta was asleep on the couch, one arm curled around their infant son, cradling him securely against his chest. The other hand rested on the baby's back. She bit her lip, blinking back happy tears, as waves of affection washed over her. Vegeta was still holding the baby! She tiptoed out of the den and to her purse, pulling out her camera phone. She knew that Vegeta would most likely be furious if he knew she had taken such a 'compromising' picture of him, but the moment seemed too rare and much too precious to pass up.

With a soft click of the button on her phone, she gazed adoringly at the image she'd just captured, one she was certain would also be permanently captured in her mind. Creeping back to her purse, she put the phone back inside. Vegeta hadn't woken up, so why even tell him?

Bulma glanced at her watch. Although she had made excellent time, there were only about twenty minutes to go before Goku was due to arrive. _I'll just wake Geta for now, and let my other two princes sleep a little longer. I just can't get over how utterly precious that is._

Walking as quietly as possible over to the loveseat, Bulma laid a hand on one of her son's shoulders. He jumped, as is not uncommon for those being awakened from a good, sound sleep.

"Huh?" Geta pushed himself up and looked at Bulma blearily. "Mother?"

She held up a finger in front of her lips and nodded in the direction of the couch where her mate and son lay sleeping. "Isn't that just adorable?" she whispered.

Geta smiled and nodded, following her from the room. "I take it you found something?" he asked hopefully.

Bulma nodded, pulling some garments out of a shopping bag. As she handed them to Geta, she smiled, surprised. "Hey, you put your hair in a chonmage. Why not let it go Saiyan-style?"

Geta sighed as he examined his mother's purchases. "Well, as I explained to Father, it's grown much too long and since I inherited his big hair," he began, looking up to grin at his mother, "I'd look like a deranged troll doll, as I put it."

Bulma giggled. "Show me!" she demanded excitedly.

"Only on two conditions: a, that you don't laugh at me, and b, that you promise to cut it for me," Geta negotiated as he pulled his hair loose.

"Okay, "Bulma conceded. "I'll do my best, but ever since you said 'deranged troll doll', I can't faithfully promise you on that one." She giggled again. "Just the mental image... oh, my. That _is _pretty wild," she agreed, her hand over her mouth and eyes twinkling. A small giggle emerged from behind her hand.

Geta hadn't expected his mother not to laugh and simply smiled and shrugged sheepishly. "My hair grows pretty quickly and it hasn't been cut in at least a good six months or so," he told her.

"Why not?" Bulma asked, still fascinated by his gravity-defying coif.

She noted that Geta seemed uncomfortable, as if what he had said had unintentionally lead to a question he did not want to answer. "Circumstances which were unfortunately... out of my control," he mumbled, confirming her suspicion.

"Ah," was all she said, tactfully not pushing the issue. "Well, why don't you go try those clothes on? Hopefully _something _I bought will fit."

"Sure," he agreed, grateful for the change of subject.

Bulma watched him head for the bathroom and decided to make a trip down the hall herself. She grabbed a light blanket from a closet and returned to the den. She slipped in quietly, knowing that Vegeta was a light sleeper, and carefully covered her sleeping princes with it since the air conditioning was running and the house was cool. She turned to leave but hesitated. Bending down, she placed a gentle kiss on her baby's downy head and another one on Vegeta's cheek before creeping back out.

Vegeta opened one eye and watched her leave. He had seen her obviously pleased reaction to him asleep holding their son and did not know exactly how to react. As he contemplated this, the baby made a small sound and wriggled again in his sleep but did not wake up. He had to admit to himself that the feeling he was currently experiencing toward his son was more than simply protectiveness of what was his. As for Bulma, she confused him even more than the child did. _I do not have worthless human emotions,_ his mind insisted. _So what is this- nothing! It's nothing. _He sighed and closed his eyes again.

* * *

"So, how do I look?"

Bulma looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading at the kitchen table and smiled. Geta was dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved cotton shirt. He shuffled nervously, his hands in his pockets and head down. "You look very handsome," she told him, her smile widening. "I was hoping that shirt would fit."

"Yeah, it seemed like the best one," Geta agreed. He was silent for a moment. "I look like an anorexic sack of bones," he blurted suddenly. "And being over seven feet tall doesn't help me look any less like a scrawny beanpole," he moaned miserably, collapsing into a chair, his head in his hands. "This is a mistake... I should just tell Father what they need to know and send him instead."

Bulma got up from her chair and came over to stand beside him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting without patronizing him. "Geta, you haven't said what happened to you, but evidently it was nothing short of terrible," she soothed softly, rubbing his shoulder. "If you've never worn silk boxers until today, it obviously hasn't been an easy life for you. You came here to tell us what we need to know, as you put it, which means it's something important. They'll be gracious." She frowned. "Well, Yamcha and your father have personal vendettas toward each other, so he may let something smart slip simply because you're Vegeta's son. Besides, he's still upset that I'm with your father instead of him." She sighed. "What a mess _that_ was when he found out. Don't take anything he may say or do personally, all right?"

Geta sighed. "I know. It's just embarrassing that the most I can manage right now is a tiny burst of ki just strong enough to dry my hair. Mother, it was all I could do just to fly here, which is part of the reason I pushed it as quickly as I did. I could tell I was all but done and it would have been completely humiliating to be stranded there."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," Bulma told him. "I honestly don't know what I can say to you right now." She sat down beside him. "I think maybe I could send Vegeta to go collect Goku and the others. That would also give me some time to help you with your hair, if you'd like," she suggested hopefully.

Geta nodded. "I guess so," he agreed. He looked at his watch. "Father should probably leave in a few minutes."

"I'll go wake him up," Bulma offered, getting up from her seat. "Aren't you hungry? I'll make you something if you want."

He shook his head. "Thanks for offering, Mother, but I'll have to pass for now." He looked uncomfortably at her. "It's been, well, a while since I actually ate anything of substance."

Tears filled Bulma's eyes. "Kami, Geta... I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have figured that. I'll get you something to start off slowly with after I send your father off."

Geta watched her leave the room. _Oh, Mother. If she's going to take that little revelation so badly, how is she going to handle the rest of it?_

* * *

"Vegeta?"

His eyes opened to the sight of Bulma's blue ones above him. "What is it, Woman?" he asked groggily. He almost sat up when he remembered the infant sleeping on his chest.

"Here, let me take him," Bulma said, scooping their son up carefully into her arms. "You need to leave in a few minutes."

Vegeta sat up and pivoted on the couch so that his feet touched the floor. He yawned, stretching. "All right, fine," he grumbled. The annoying woman had woken him from a peaceful nap, taken away the cuddly baby he'd been resting with and was telling him what he needed to do.

Cuddly? Where on Kami's green Earth had_ that _come from?

Bulma smiled broadly at the sight of his well muscled body stretching. _Nice_. _Maybe I'll get me some of that, even though he's been a jerk lately._ "A couple of things," she began as he got up from the couch. "Since Geta evidently hasn't been well, it pretty much took everything he had during the fight with Frieza. He's tired and would appreciate it if you could just go get Goku and the others and bring them back here instead."

_Took everything he had? But he made it look so effortless!_ "I guess so," Vegeta grumbled, shrugging. "At least that way I can kick their sorry butts out when I'm sick of looking at them."

"Good." The way Bulma smiled at him gave Vegeta the same strange feeling that he couldn't explain earlier. "Also, Geta asked me if I'd cut his hair, but I honestly have no idea how to do it. He said it grows the same way yours is, but your hair is a lot of different lengths." She eyed him assessingly, then reached over to run her free hand through his hair. "Hmmm... I guess if I just did it in sections," she mumbled, running her hand through another time. It was then that she noticed that instead of complaining about being pawed over, he seemed to be enjoying her touch, eyes closed. _Hmmm, maybe I should have him nap with the baby more often._ She grinned at the thought.

He opened his eyes when she stopped. "I guess I should go," he mumbled. _You're weak, going soft at the mere touch of a woman,_ his mind berated him. He averted his eyes away from hers and quickly left the room.

"I guess," she agreed, following him out. "Try to stall a little if you can." She paused. "Geta didn't give you any details, did he?" she asked in a low voice.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, he wouldn't say anything and I didn't push it."

"Me, either," Bulma agreed. They reached the front door. "See you in a little bit, then," she said awkwardly, shifting the baby in her arms. _Don't think about it, Bulma. It's not the time for that._

Vegeta just gave a little grunt and nod before flying off toward the desert. _Damn it, I _want_ that woman._ He picked up the pace, trying to ignore his thoughts.

* * *

"All right, I put the baby down," Bulma said as she entered the kitchen. She had a comb, scissors and a sheet, which she loosely draped around her son. "Hopefully we can finish this before your father and the others get here."

Geta nodded wordlessly. He hadn't realized it would happen, but he was feeling a little apprehension at the thought of cutting his hair. _It hasn't been cut since the last time-_

"I took a look at your father's hair and I think I have a pretty good idea of how I need to do this," Bulma told him, interrupting his thoughts. She let down his hair again and dampened and combed through it.

Taking a section of hair that was all the same length, she raised the scissors to cut it. "Geta? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" he responded curiously.

"Because you were holding your breath," Bulma informed him.

"I was?" Geta sounded surprised. "I didn't know I was doing that. Go ahead, it's okay," he told her, trying to sound nonchalant about it. _It's time to let go, Geta. She's gone. You have to move on. Yeah, whatever._ He suddenly became aware of large pieces of midnight blue hair falling onto the sheet covering him. "How's it going?" he asked, attempting to change the subject, at least the one in his mind. "If it gets too short or whatever, my hair grows quickly, so don't worry about it. I just want to get the majority of the length off."

"So far, so good. You don't have any bald spots or anything, if that's any comfort to you," Bulma responded with a laugh. "It _is_ a little difficult, I will say, but as long as I'm not giving you either a flat top or a cone head, I'd say it's not as bad as I'd anticipated." She combed through his hair again. "Basically, I'm trying to find little sections the same length and take an even amount off everywhere."

"Just avoid the deranged troll doll look, please."

* * *

"Okay, moment of truth," Bulma announced, pulling the sheet off of him. She brushed a few stubborn loose clippings from his shoulder. "Go take a look and tell me what you think." She smiled at her son. _My very handsome son,_ she noted.

Geta stepped into the half-bath off of the kitchen and looked in the mirror. "Let's see if I can't manage one more burst of ki to dry me out." It was enough.

"I like the way your mustache and beard look with it," Bulma commented. "You look very handsome and distinguished."

"Yeah, I look a little older than a tall twelve-year-old when I have facial hair," Geta joked ruefully. "You did a darn good job for a first time. Thank you," he told her, smiling. "I remember you cutting my hair when I was little, and you'd always have to tell me to quit squirming."

Bulma smiled fondly at him. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more of those moments for little you to enjoy."

_Kami, I hope so._ He stood still, concentrating on something else. "I can sense Father and the others approaching," he told Bulma. "There's another ki I don't recognize, but it's friendly and quite powerful."

"It must be Goku!" Bulma squealed excitedly. "He made it! You were right on, Geta."

"I figured it would be Goku," Geta agreed. He shuffled his feet, feeling extremely nervous. "Kami, I don't like this. The moment right before the axe falls is always the worst."

"Oh, don't worry, Geta," Bulma objected with a wave of her hand. "There's no reason to be nervous of Goku. He's a really sweet guy, and humble, too." She giggled. "I think that's part of the reason your father is so annoyed by him. Goku just doesn't act Saiyan enough, I guess."

"Mother, I don't doubt that, based on the stories you told me as a child about your and Goku's adventures together," Geta acknowledged. "It's just... well, I acted like a total badass, mocking Frieza and all of that crap. And now I can't _do_ crap. People generally like to test out what's new, and right now that's me. What happens when I can't bite as loudly as I barked earlier today? I'll look like a moron, especially in front of Goku." He paused briefly. "In front of Father," he muttered piteously.

"Geta, first off, _no one_ who was there today is going to try to push your buttons. I sure as heck wouldn't after what I saw you single-handedly do to not only Frieza, but his father too," Bulma remarked. "I wouldn't chance it, honestly.

"Secondly, as I said, Goku is a very sweet and caring individual who'd give you the shirt off his back without a second thought. His reaction would be, 'Oh, man, that's a bummer! Well, I sure hope you feel better soon. Maybe we can spar later,' or something along those lines," she assured him, doing an admirable Goku impersonation. "Don't worry one iota about Goku. He's very honorable and would never tell anyone if he _did_ know you're tired. Okay?" She smiled reassuringly.

Her words did seem to quell his worries somewhat. He nodded. "Okay, Mother. All right." He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders back, head held high. "Maintain a positive mental attitude, confidence is my friend, and never let them see you sweat." He gave his mother a sideways glance.

Bulma started to laugh. "I take it you got a drill sergeant routine a time or ten, hmm?"

Geta couldn't help but grin at her. "Yeah, something like that." They stood in silence for a moment before he surprised her with a gentle bear hug. _I've been waiting so long to do this. I can't break down now._

Bulma smiled up at him. "Hey, what did I do to earn that?"

"I- I just wanted to," he answered in a quiet voice. "You died in what would be a few years ago in my lifetime. I... I missed you terribly."

Bulma tensed slightly. "I died? How?"

He let her go and made her look at him. "I can't explain right now, not until you've heard the rest of the story."

"All right," she conceded, nodding. "Geta, I just wanted to say that as far as your father is concerned, he really is a tough guy to please at times, but I can see that he is _not_ disappointed in you, so please don't think that. You beat Frieza, and to him that means strength, no matter how it was that you did it. He's been more open today in the past two hours than practically any other time I've seen. That's because of you, you know."

"Thank you, Mother," Geta responded quietly. "I guess I hadn't realized how much having Father's approval really meant to me until now... can you hear that? Sounds like somebody's awake."

"I'll go get him. And it also sounds like there's a group of somebodies in the yard," Bulma informed him, peeking out one of the kitchen windows.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Time to bite the bullet, I suppose."


	9. Chapter 9

Reformatted 12/25/09

AN: The explanation given by Geta won't totally follow the canon storyline. Then again, this is an alternate universe story, so I suppose I am allowed to take a few liberties here and there. ;)

The episode of DBZ where I got the idea for the worms from is #259, "Mind Trap". I found the part where poor Vegeta almost loses his lunch to be amusing. Aww, c'mon, as if anything would gross out Vegeta! The only things that would be better would be poopy diapers or blood. Poopy diapers- now there's an idea! _hee hee_

Speaking of aww, c'mon, nobody tried to guess what it was that Vegeta couldn't quite put his finger on about his son. _pout_ Oh, well, Goku figures it out right off the bat.

Don't forget to review! More reviews equals quicker updates. Let me know how I'm doing. Thank you to everyone who has left a review so far.

Thanks also to my much better half for reviewing this for me. I love you!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Nine

"So where is he, Vegeta? Don't we get to meet this guy?"

"Can it, Baldy," Vegeta responded dryly. "I'm not his babysitter." He grinned widely, confusing the little monk standing next to him. "He's in the house and he'll come out when he's ready."

"Wow, another Saiyan! I'm sure looking forward to meeting him. He sounds pretty powerful to me." Goku beamed at the prospect of meeting the individual solely responsible for Frieza's demise.

"I suppose I can hold my own in a fight."

They all turned to face the deep voice coming from the direction of the house. Geta stood behind the group, leaning casually against a nearby tree, arms crossed and a crooked half smirk identical to his father's on his face. His tail swayed back and forth lazily beside him.

Geta was hardly shocked by the stunned silence and gaping mouths. What else could anyone expect at the sight of a near-clone Vegeta with piercing blue eyes? "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? Could I offer any of you a beverage?" He took a drink from a bottle of water he'd been holding.

Gohan was the one to finally speak up first. "I like your mustache and beard, Mister."

Geta smiled at the younger version of the man who'd been his mentor and good friend. "Geta, please. And thank you," he responded, running his fingertips over the goatee. "It works for me. Makes me look older than twelve," he repeated, chuckling in the hopes of breaking the ice. _Anya always thought it was sexy, too._

"You're Bulma's kid from the future, right?" Yamcha asked.

Geta turned to look at him, an irritated expression on his face. _This dolt is disregarding Father right in front of him!_ He decided to ignore the snub and simply answer the question. "Yes, Bulma is my mother, and as you can plainly see my father is standing not ten feet from you. As you know, my name is Vegeta, but I go by Geta. It's just easier." His eyes moved over to rest on Goku. "You must be Goku." He set his water bottle on the ground and went over to meet Goku.

"Yep, that's me," Goku agreed cheerfully, returning the younger man's slight bow and nod of greeting. "You single-handedly defeated Frieza?"

"Dad, you should have seen it! It was totally awesome! He turned into a Super Saiyan and Frieza didn't have a chance against him!" Gohan piped up excitedly before Geta could respond. "He didn't even break a sweat!"

"Really?" Goku asked, impressed. "When I fought Frieza he gave me a lot of trouble."

Geta cleared his throat, knowing that his father was rapidly becoming offended. "Look, I didn't come here to gloat about what happened today," he spoke up. "I'm here because there are much bigger fish to fry than Frieza."

_That_ got everyone's attention. "Bigger than Frieza?"

Geta turned his attention to his father. "Yes, Father. What I am here about is much more of a threat to this planet than Frieza." He looked to the house. "When Mother comes out, I'll tell you. She's busy with baby me right now." A grin crossed his lips. "Mother always said I was a cute baby. I see I was."

Goku grinned. "Awww! I haven't met little you yet," he said. "In fact, I was surprised to hear that you were even born at all." He regarded Geta speculatively. "I see little bits of Bulma in you, but you really take after your dad here." He poked Vegeta on the arm.

"Don't touch me, you idiotic-"

"Hey, I'll bet Vegeta must have been a cute baby, too!" Goku continued, his grin widening. "He probably looked just like little you, only with black hair and eyes instead of blue."

Vegeta had been about to rip Goku's tongue out when what the man had just said hit him. He peered at his son a little more carefully. "I _knew_ there was something else different about you," he exclaimed, pushing Goku aside as he stepped forward and ignoring the little yelp of "hey!" the younger man let out. "Your hair is blue."

Geta nodded. "Very dark blue," he acknowledged. "Given my complexion, I really don't think Mother's lighter hair color would have flattered me much." He smiled. "Usually people notice my eye color before they do my hair color."

"I think it's nice," Goku piped up, undeterred. "It's like a little bit of your mom along with a lot of your dad."

"Okay, what did I miss?" Bulma asked as she wandered up with VJ. Her lips were trembling. "Hey, Goku."

"Bulma!" Goku gave her a big hug and kissed her cheek.

Bulma returned the hug and kiss. "I missed you, you big lunk," she sniffled, teary-eyed. "Why did you take so long to come home?"

"It's a long story," Goku told her. "I'll tell you after Geta here gets done with his story. It sounds a lot more important than mine. Oh, let me see your little guy!" he continued, hardly pausing to take a breath between sentences. "Aww, he's so cute! Hello there!" He scooped the wide-eyed child out of Bulma's arms.

"Don't touch my brat, third class!" Vegeta snarled. "It's bad enough that you fawn all over my mate in front of me-"

Bulma rushed over to him and rubbed his arm soothingly. "Hey, hey! Calm down, okay? He doesn't mean any harm."

Vegeta continued to growl like he had been doing ever since Goku had hugged and kissed Bulma. "I don't want that imbecile holding my brat."

Goku frowned. "Hey!" he objected, visibly hurt. "I'm not that bad with babies. I do have a son, in case you've forgotten."

"I don't care," Vegeta snarled. "Give him back to his mother."

"Oh, I'm fine with it, guys," Bulma announced cheerfully. "I won't take him back unless he cries, Goku. In fact, he seems to like you." She beamed at her friend. If Vegeta didn't want Goku holding the baby, he'd have to take him away from Goku himself.

Vegeta growled. "I'm just waiting for him to drop the boy so he ends up retarded as well," he said mockingly.

Goku frowned again. "Vegeta, you don't have to be so hurtful," he complained. "I wouldn't drop your son."

"Everyone should take notice that Kakarrot never denied being retarded," Vegeta remarked snidely, a smirk on his face.

Geta shook his head and chuckled despite himself. Goku seemed so nice, but he also seemed the type to walk head on into his father's insults. He went back to leaning against the tree, his tail snaking down to retrieve his water bottle.

Gohan's eyes widened as big as saucers. "That's so cool," he breathed. "I wish I still had my tail," he added wistfully, knowing that Piccolo had removed it in order to prevent him from turning back into a rampaging Oozaru.

"Oh, yeah, having a tail is great," Geta responded with a nod. "It's like having a fifth limb." He flicked his tail up, curling it around in different positions. Deciding to make a show of it, he dropped the water bottle in his hand and caught it with his tail without looking. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, his tail then proceeded to wrap itself around the midsection of the bottle to hold it steady. The end of the tail then twisted the cap off of the bottle with ease, opening it and lifting it up to his lips so that he could finish his drink.

"Kami Vegeta, I wish you still had your tail," Bulma breathed without thinking. Her eyes widened and she went bright pink when she heard snickers and realized what she'd said.

Vegeta leaned in close to her ear. "Maybe I'll wait another year to wish for immortality and show you just what a tail can do instead," he murmured, making her cheeks go even redder.

"I want to say this right now. I know it's cool and different and you're curious, but please don't ask to touch my tail. That goes for him, too," Geta spoke up, nodding toward the infant in Bulma's arms. "You might not think it's such a big deal and I don't know what you've been told, but a Saiyan's tail is both extremely sensitive and very personal. That being the case, I'm just particularly protective ever since that fact was used against me."

Bulma frowned. "Used against you? Do you mean-"

"Yeah. Yank it, break it, burn it, crush it, among other..." Geta paused momentarily, contemplating how to phrase what he wanted to say. He inhaled and let it out slowly. "Let's just say, unpleasant things. It's all been done before," Geta said quietly, trying to appear ignorant of his mother's horrified expression. "So. Should we just get on with this now that Mother is here?"

"Why don't you just say 'Mom' and 'Dad', Geta?" Gohan asked curiously.

"Because Saiyan children addressed their parents as 'Mother' and 'Father', and that is how Father expected me to address him and Mother," Geta responded with a small shrug, grateful for the change of topic. "It never bothered me and it's respectful."

"Oh." Gohan digested this. "If you had kids, what would you want them to call you?"

Silence.

Well, he _had_ been grateful, at least for the moment. "Anyway," Geta managed momentarily, "I'm a little tired and hungry, so I think we should get started."

"I could fix you something simple," Bulma offered. "Let's go on inside, guys."

"Why don't you cook him a big turkey dinner, Bulma?" Goku asked, licking his lips. "Mmmm, that would taste so good!"

"Yes, let's go inside," Geta agreed, again trying to change the subject. "It's rather hot out here." He turned and headed for the house.

"Or maybe a nice juicy steak and some big loaded baked potatoes, yum!"

"Then why would you deliberately wear long sleeves in August?" Tien asked logically.

Geta paused, and his shoulders fell. "You're right. It does seem rather stupid to wear long sleeves and complain about the heat, doesn't it?" he murmured before continuing on into the house.

They followed him into the kitchen where the sheet Bulma had used while cutting his hair still lay in a heap on the floor. "Sorry," she apologized, kicking it under the table. "Let's see..." She opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "Ah..." Giggling, she poured something from a container into a glass and stuck it in the microwave.

No one noticed, however, because Geta was busy rifling through the bag of clothing that Bulma had purchased. All eyes were on him as he pulled out a t-shirt. "I'll be right back," he murmured, stepping into the half bath off of the kitchen. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him to simply take off the old shirt and put on the new one, but their reaction would be bad enough and he didn't want the gaping that would inevitably come.

The microwave beeped as he came back into the kitchen wearing the t-shirt. "Here you go, Geta," Bulma announced, stirring the contents of the glass and handing it to him before putting a bottle for the baby into the microwave. "Drink up."

He sniffed the contents of the glass and his eyebrow rose. "Is this what I think it is?"

Bulma giggled some more and nodded. "Yes. You're technically my baby, aren't you?"

Geta blushed a little, but grinned despite himself. "Sure, why not?" he responded, taking a sip.

Bulma laughed. "That's something your father there might say, at least until he found out what he was drinking. He wouldn't touch that glass with a ten-foot pole."

His eyes twinkled at her over the top of the glass as he took another sip. "Thank you, Mother."

"You're welcome, Son." She pulled the bottle from the microwave, stuck a nipple on it and tested it on her wrist before handing it to Goku to feed the baby.

Vegeta's expression could only be described as partway between disgusted and horrified. "You're drinking milk meant for infants?"

"Oh, it's just a little breast milk, Vegeta. No biggie." Bulma giggled at the discomfiture on her mate's face. "I'm kidding. It's just some milk with some baby cereal in it, honestly. I figured it would be easy on his stomach. The _baby_ is drinking breast milk."

"I remember breast milk not tasting all that bad," Geta responded, thoroughly enjoying his father's horrified reaction.

Vegeta snorted. "Fond memories, eh Boy?" he asked, indicating the baby who suckled energetically at the bottle he'd been given. "But probably not like that." He smirked as his adult son went bright red.

"That's not what I meant!" the young man exclaimed. "You're acting like a dirty old man!" A couple of the others snickered.

"Hey, I'm not that much older than you, Boy," Vegeta informed him.

"And yet, you call me 'Boy' rather than the name you gave me." Geta took a seat and leaned back lazily.

"Your mother gave you that ridiculous nickname," Vegeta retorted.

"I think he meant naming him after you," Goku spoke up. "You have Daddy's name don't you?" he cooed to the baby.

"You remember things from that far back?" Bulma interjected in an attempt to save what was left of her son's dignity.

"I remember a lot of things, even from before I could walk or talk," Geta confirmed with a nod. "A lot of things..." _Even some things I'd just as soon forget._

"Wow, somebody's a good eater," Goku informed the infant cradled in the crook of one arm. "Someday you're gonna grow up all big and strong, oh yes you will! Aww, you're a widdle cutie patootie," he cooed in a sing-song voice, tickling the child with one finger. "A boo-boo-boo... Ah! Look at that smiiiiile!"

That did it. Vegeta growled. He'd tolerated the other Saiyan holding his son and making stupid comments to the child solely for Bulma's satisfaction, but when the man started making idiotic faces and noises, he decided he'd had enough. "You damned stupid moron! Do you think _my_ brat is so retarded that he would be entertained in such a demeaning fashion, even as you are? Let him eat in peace. In fact, _give_ him to me!" He snatched VJ from a startled Goku's arms. "I wish he had enough teeth to bite your finger off, you addle-brained ass."

"That wasn't very nice," Goku complained, pouting.

Bulma only smiled. "No, I suppose not."

Vegeta scowled and stood in a corner by himself with the baby. Oddly enough, the child merely burbled and wriggled contentedly as he lay in the crook of his father's arm, not at all bothered by the tirade that Vegeta had just let fly. His tiny tail coiled itself around Vegeta's wrist and he stared up at him with wide blue eyes.

"So, you handling that all right?" Bulma asked Geta.

Geta set down his empty glass with a sigh. "Yes, but I ate a handful of chips before everyone else came in and they're ripping their way through my guts right now," he said with a grimace.

"You're sick?" Goku asked absently.

Geta sighed; the man really was clueless. "Haven't you noticed how skinny I am?" he asked tiredly. The others shuffled a little uncomfortably. They'd noticed how bony his body was- small wonder now why he'd chosen a long sleeved shirt and long pants despite it being August- how pinched his face looked, and the dark circles under his eyes, but had politely refrained from commenting, figuring it had to do with whatever it was he was going to tell them.

"I guess so, but I just figured you were hungry," Goku commented innocently. "I could use a good meal myself. I'm st-"

Geta gave him a piercing look. "You have _no_ idea what it means to be starving, so don't even say it in jest," he interrupted sharply. "I doubt you've ever truly been hungry, either." He sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. It's just that I haven't had even a scrap of meat in a good six months, or even anything of substance to eat in the past couple of months," he murmured. "I'm so malnourished that it's all I can do just to function. If I hadn't stolen that ki from Frieza..." He shook his head.

"Oh," Goku said quietly, genuine concern coloring his face. "Then why don't you eat something? Bulma always has plenty of food here."

Obviously Goku hadn't caught his comment about the chips. "Because my stomach can't handle real food anymore right now," he explained. "My stomach can tolerate a lot, but even a Saiyan stomach can only handle so much. If it didn't come back up, it would rip me apart inside."

"So, what will you do?" Goku asked, horrified by the mere thought of not having food to eat for so long and even more of not being able to eat food he did have.

Geta shrugged. "Start with simpler foods like the milk, and gradually add heartier stuff," he responded. "That's what I did last time this happened, anyway. I could always supplement whatever I eat intravenously for a while, too."

Silence.

"I suppose you all want to know how this happened?"

Bulma dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. "No, but obviously it's something we need to know."

Geta nodded. "Everyone take a seat. This won't be easy to hear." He got up from his chair and got himself a glass of water. He'd be doing quite a bit of talking before the day was over.

"Let's go to the den instead," Bulma suggested. "There's more room there and it's more comfortable."

Everyone got up and trudged toward the den. Bulma approached Vegeta as they filed out. "Did you want me to take him?" she offered. "He needs to be burped or he'll spit up."

Vegeta glanced down at their son and handed him to her after a brief pause- was it hesitation?- and a nod. "I don't know how to tend to the child," he admitted.

Bulma smiled. "You'll learn. I had to," she assured him, cradling VJ in one arm. As Vegeta passed by, she grabbed his hand with her free one.

He gave her a sharp look since the others were around and he didn't want anyone to see him doing something as silly as holding her hand. He tried to pull his hand free when he saw the look of hurt in her eyes. Cursing himself mentally, he allowed the gesture until they reached the den. "That will do, Bulma," he told her in an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice as he let go of her hand.

The look that flashed briefly in her eyes surprised him. It was the look she'd given him when he knew she adored him, when he'd done something to please her. She'd allowed it to slip out before entering the den, despite all that he had done. He again felt a sense of relief; although he enjoyed seeing the fire in her eyes when she was angry, this was different. Her hurt at what he had done was diminishing, her anger at him was softening. She smiled at him before entering the den, holding their son close as she did so.

Upon entering the den Vegeta noted that no seats remained. That didn't bother him, as he preferred to stand by himself anyway, as was Piccolo. It irritated him, however, that none of the other males in the room seemed inclined to relinquish their seat to a woman with a baby in her arms, save one.

"No, Geta, it's all right. You sit down. You look so tired," Bulma objected when Geta tried to get her to sit where he had been.

"I'll be fine, Mother. You have a baby to care for. Please take the chair." Geta gestured toward the recliner.

"Bulma? You should sit here. Vegeta told me that I'm too unsteady when I hover in the Lotus position, so I can work on that while we're talking." Gohan sat cross-legged in the air and gestured to the seat he'd just vacated.

Bulma smiled. "Thank you, Gohan. That's very thoughtful of you," she said, sitting down and adjusting her son in her arms so she could pat his little back gently.

"You're welcome," the boy responded with a pleased nod. Nothing, however, could have made him any more pleased than what happened next.

"Well, Boy," Vegeta's voice issued from the corner of the room he was occupying, "I see that your mother has given you valuable training of her own," he commented. _Unlike his oaf of a father._

Gohan turned his head in time to see Vegeta's nod of approval. "Gosh, thanks Vegeta."

Vegeta grunted in response. "Now, what was it we were here to discuss?"

Geta found himself grateful that the situation had resolved itself and that his father hadn't gotten involved. "Death," he told his father grimly. "The death of everyone I ever knew and loved."

There was silence in the room.

"Everyone?" Bulma asked in a tiny voice.

He nodded. "This won't be easy for any of you to hear, but you must hear it." He turned to Goku. "Does the name 'Dr. Gero' ring any bells for you?"

Goku's face fell into a look of confusion. What could he mean? "Yes, of course. But what does he have to do with what happened to you?"

"You didn't finish your altercation with him when you had the chance," Geta told him pointedly. "Because of your soft-heartedness you spared his life, and even now he is plotting his revenge against you and everyone associated with you. That includes not only your family, but mine as well, and all of our mutual friends," he continued, gesturing to everyone in the room. "Anyone you ever loved and cared about, anyone who might get in the way of his goals."

Goku shifted on the couch uncomfortably. "What can I do?"

"Learn to kill when necessary," Geta answered emotionlessly. "Learn how to finish the job."

"That's a pretty cold hearted thing to say," Yamcha interjected scornfully.

"He's right, I don't want to kill anyone," Goku agreed. "Everyone deserves a second chance to turn their lives around."

Geta sighed. "Some people are misguided, yes. But others are truly evil. Dr. Gero is one of those people. I wouldn't have had to go to the desert at all today, if you understood that."

Goku frowned, embarrassed. He knew that Geta was referring to the fact that he'd let Frieza live as well. "If I thought that way, you would never have been born, Geta," he countered. "What about that?"

"While I am grateful for the fact that my father is still alive, you must understand that not all people are deserving of a second chance," Geta explained calmly. "You have to suck it up to do what needs to be done. I know you don't want to hurt anyone." He directed his attention to Yamcha. "Do you really think I enjoyed killing all of those soldiers today? Don't think for one moment that I don't wake up at night in a cold sweat remembering all of the terrible things I've had to do. I've shed more blood than I care to talk about, and I'm only twenty. I don't want him to have to go through that too." He pointed to the child in Bulma's arms. "I don't want him to have to, either."

He pointed to Gohan this time, causing the boy to gasp and sit up straighter. "M-me?" he squeaked.

"Yes, you," Geta acknowledged. "As my Sensei, you taught me what I still needed to know to stay alive, including how to snap someone's neck."

"I..." Gohan's mouth opened and closed as he struggled to voice his thoughts. _He_ snapped people's necks? "Why would I be your Sensei? Why wouldn't Vegeta train you?"

There was a pause in the conversation. "Because he was dead," Geta responded coldly, ignoring his father's startled response. "Everyone was dead. You and I were the only two of us left with any sort of fighting ability." He knew he was stretching the truth a little, but it needed to be done. He couldn't risk the possibility of Trunks not being born if he disclosed the fact that he'd had a brother.

"Oh," the boy whispered.

"Gohan, tell me," Geta continued softly. "Do you think sacrificing one life is worth saving the lives of many, even if that one person deserves to live?"

Again the boy's mouth worked silently. "I... I guess it would be wrong to say it wouldn't be," he admitted.

"Believe me, I know from first hand experience that it is _not_ an easy choice to make," Geta told him. "I've had to kill innocents, even children, for the good of the greater number. I _love_ children. Do you know how difficult it was for me to kill a small child toddling toward the group of people I was trying to hide, because he wanted to be back with his mother and didn't understand that he had a bomb strapped to him? Was it fair to the child who'd grown fond enough of me to call me his big brother, or to his mother who pleaded and begged for me to find a way to spare her child? Was it fair to the people who had to watch? Was it fair to me to be forced to do it?" His voice cracked with emotion and he turned his face away as he regained his composure. That little boy had looked a lot like another little boy he'd loved dearly.

He'd looked a lot like his own son.

He _almost_ hadn't done it.

Damn them, but they knew him well!

"Geta?"

Geta turned to his mother, whose face was wet with tears. "I'm sorry, Mother. I told you this wouldn't be easy for you to hear. But we can work together to prevent it, right?" He redirected his attention to Goku. "Do you understand what I'm saying now? If one innocent life must be spared to spare the lives of many, how much more important is it to destroy an evil person who would happily be the cause of such suffering?"

Goku was looking at his hands in his lap. "I... I understand," he murmured.

"I don't like it either," Geta assured him. "But sometimes..." He paused in thought. "Sometimes unpleasant things must be done in order to survive."

"So what does Dr. Gero have to do with all of this?" the usually happy-go-lucky man asked sadly.

"Dr. Gero has somehow been collecting information on everyone in our circle here," Geta began. "He already knows more about all of you than you think. Everything from your basic five foot eleven, spiky black hair, wears an orange gi to things like preferences, habits, abilities, personality traits. Any bit of information that could be used to take you down, especially in ways you'd never thought of.

"All the while, he has been busy in his lab, creating the ultimate weapons against us, weapons which he plans to use in his quest for world domination once we're all out of the picture." He looked down at his hands and shuddered at how bony they were.

"What is it?" Tien asked worriedly. "What kind of weapon is so tough that it could take out all of us?"

"He's busy building a group of androids," Geta responded soberly. "There were five of them that I knew of, one of those a machine that he'd actually found a way to have one of the other androids transfer his own brain into. Two of them in particular were the ones that gave us problems, the ones that did the most damage and destruction. The most killing." He drew in a deep breath. "The ones that killed all of you."

"The other ones weren't a threat?" Yamcha asked, shaken by the younger man's statement.

"No, I didn't say that," Geta contradicted him kindly. "Two of them, 16 and 19, were taken care of right off the bat. 20, which was the one Gero had his brain transplanted into, was damaged but managed to escape after almost fatally wounding you," he told a worried looking Yamcha. "Evidently the rest of you went looking for him, but since the androids don't have detectable ki the way we do, you were unable to locate his hidden lab." He sighed. "Trust me, if I knew where Gero was, I'd be there cleaning house instead of sitting here talking with all of you."

"You clean houses? Do you do windows?" Oolong joked, earning himself a room full of disgusted looks and a few muttered comments.

"Yeah, I cook and do laundry too," Geta responded dryly. "Do you want to die soon, or would you like to take this seriously?"

"Sorry," Oolong murmured. "I just... I feel pretty useless in all of this. I mean, what can someone like _me_ do to help against killer androids?"

"You can support the rest of us," Geta responded immediately. "You'd be surprised at how valuable one person's contribution to a cause can be."

"What happened to Gero?" Goku interjected, obviously upset by all of the trouble his oversight had caused. "And why did the numbers of the androids go from 16 to 19?"

"Ah." Geta smiled humorlessly. "I see you did catch that. 17 and 18 were the two androids I told you about that gave us all of the trouble. Evidently Gero went back to his lab to activate them after he got away. Meanwhile, since none of you knew what happened to Gero, you started making preparations in the event that he did show up again.

"Gero laid low for a few days, perhaps licking his wounds, or perhaps finishing up his work on 17 and 18. Regardless of what he was doing, these two were much more advanced than 16 and 19 were, and more intelligent. When Gero realized that he was no longer able to control them, he tried to deactivate them. You can imagine how well they went for that."

"You mean, as in not at all," Gohan supplied.

Geta nodded. "You've got that right. They rebelled against him and brutally murdered him by crushing his brain before downloading Gero's entire database of information on all of us. Evidently world domination sounded good to them too, so they decided to go the way of their creator and kill us off before forcing humanity into submission."

"How do you know that they killed him, or even how they did it?" Tien asked incredulously. It was all too much to take in.

"Because they _told_ me what they'd done to him," Geta responded emotionlessly. "They were proud of it, like most psychotic individuals are." He picked up the glass of water he'd brought in with him and took a sip. "Anyway, Father decided that he should train even harder than he had been, and that I must learn to care for myself since he couldn't always be there beside us. So he took me into the GR to train me."

Bulma noticed that his hand was trembling somewhat as he set his glass down on the coffee table. "Did they show up then?" she asked, fearful of the answer.

"Yes," he responded, staring down at his hands. "Father had disabled the ki blocking shield so we'd be able to detect anything that happened. Good thing he had, or we would have been taken completely off guard. He suddenly paused from what he was instructing me, locked me in the GR and told me to stay put. He left, and I found out later from Mother that what he had felt was a sudden powerful fluctuation of ki come from Piccolo. I didn't know him well enough to recognize it."

"Me?" Piccolo, who had until that point remained silent, spoke up.

Geta nodded. "Think about it," he told him. "Gero had been collecting information on all of you ever since Goku ruined things for the Red Ribbon Army. The androids knew all of that. If they killed you, what would have been made useless?"

"The dragonballs," Bulma breathed. "They knew exactly what they were doing."

"Yes," Geta agreed. "Father mentally told you that he'd sensed the ki disturbance and was going to investigate it, and that he'd locked me in the GR, which you both assumed would keep me safe. He told you to secure yourself in the lab, and not to come out until he himself disarmed the security. It was voice, retinal and thumbprint protected. Of course, all of those things could easily be overcome by the androids, should they have decided not to just force their way in," he mused.

"How?" Goku asked.

"Well, they could easily mimic any voice," Geta began, "and as for coming up with thumbprints and retinas from their victims... no problem."

Goku looked decidedly green when he realized what Geta meant. "Oh."

"Yeah. Anyway, after Piccolo was out of the picture, the androids decided to start at the top of the power ladder and work their way down. I'm not sure how it all began, but I suddenly felt a spike of ki, Father's ki. I peeked out one of the windows just in time to see him go sailing through the air and into the side of the house. He went through one wall and out the other, you know, kind of at an angle. It scared the garbage out of me and I hid under the control panel. If something could knock my father clear through the side of our house, I sure didn't want to be involved.

"I got even more scared when the GR began to shake, and then was rent open like an orange being peeled. I'll never forget the two pair of glowing eyes looking in at me, or the evil snickering. They had me right where they wanted me, and they knew it."

"The androids?" Bulma asked in a tiny voice.

"Yes. They were just about to come get me when the male android, 17, was knocked over by a ki blast. I was never more in awe of Father than at that moment. You were in your glory, Father," he said softly, looking over at Vegeta. "I... I really looked up to you, wanted to be just like you." He trailed off with a sigh.

"Even when he was being an-"

"Yamcha!" Bulma interrupted him in a warning tone.

"I was three! What three-year-old doesn't want to be big and strong like his father?" Geta objected, offended. "Anyway Father, you fought them for a while. I was so scared that I didn't leave. The two of them got the better of you and knocked you to the ground. I know now that they were playing with you, the way they have played with me so many times. It's like the way a cat bats around a mouse. Not to kill it right away, just to play with it until it gets bored with it. They injured you very badly, as there was no way you could gain an advantage against two powerful machines that don't get physically tired the way we would. You told me to leave, to get to safety, but I didn't want to leave you. They came up on us, mocked us, and..."

"Killed me?" Vegeta asked brusquely. He didn't like the idea of being bested by a couple of machines.

Geta nodded. "Right in front of me. They made sure it was brutal. For Kami's sake, I was a little kid!" His voice wavered. "When they were done, they were about to kill me, too, when Gohan arrived and intervened just in time." He drew in a ragged breath. "After that, Mother and I fled. Gohan helped us give everyone a decent burial. We were the only ones left."

"What about Mom?" Gohan asked in a tiny voice.

"They killed her, too. They deliberately left her body where you'd be sure to find her."

"What about Dad?" Gohan asked, fighting back tears. "Why didn't he help? Did the androids get him, too?"

Geta shook his head. "No. He left on some mission or trip or whatever and never came back. Your mother always insisted that something must have happened to him, because not only did he always come back eventually, but not too long after he left, she just _felt_ something inside of herself, something that was just not right. I'm inclined to believe her, because Mother described it as an empty feeling when Father died, like a mental awareness that was suddenly gone. She didn't have to see it with her own eyes to know it had happened."

The room was dreadfully silent for a moment until Vegeta broke the silence.

"How did it happen?"

Geta merely shrugged and continued to stare down at the carpet. "I don't know. Chi-Chi couldn't tell."

"No, I mean me," Vegeta clarified.

Geta shook his head. "No, please don't ask me that. It was traumatic enough that I still see it in my dreams."

"Geta, tell me, please," Vegeta pressed. "I must know."

Geta looked up at his father, his eyes full of unshed tears. His father had used a word- _please_- that he had never before heard pass his lips, yet he found himself loathe to grant his father's request. "Why?" he nearly moaned.

"To prevent it." Vegeta's gaze bore into his son's.

Vegeta was unprepared for the sudden mental onslaught that assaulted his mind as he saw his death as his three-year-old son had witnessed it. He heard his terrible scream, the sound of his body being torn apart, the thuds as it fell to the ground beside the boy, felt his own warm blood splattering across his face. He felt his son's trembling, heard his whimpers of fear and anguished cries. He witnessed the near death and Gohan's deliverance. He heard Bulma's anguished screams and sobs, watching as she clutched his dead body to herself in grief.

"Great gods," he murmured, feeling his stomach lurch as he turned away from the others.

Geta had gone back to staring at the carpet and swiped at his face with the back of one hand. "Yeah," his voice croaked out the word. "I never want him to go through that." He nodded toward the baby slumbering in Bulma's arms. "I don't want any of us going through that."

Bulma dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue and passed the box to her son. Whatever Geta had shown his father must have been horrific. She'd never seen Vegeta go pale like he did or have such an expression on his face. "We won't have to, thanks to you," she managed. "We'll be prepared this time."

Geta sniffed, regaining his composure. "I- I had to do something. Eventually I was the only one of us left on a literal scorched Earth, trying my best to help keep the little pockets of humans left safe. I... It just wasn't enough. Not even being a Super Saiyan was enough against the two of them together." He looked back to his father. "So don't think that Super Saiyan has anything to do with it. The reason you were killed was because they're just too much, too strong, especially together."

Vegeta eyed his son, who obviously knew him well enough despite only having lived with him the first three years of his life that he was aware of his obsession with becoming a Super Saiyan. "So, it wouldn't have made any difference for me?" he asked quietly.

_How do I answer that?_ "No, it made no difference," Geta responded. :Although, I must confess that Mother always said you made quite the hot blonde.:

Vegeta's eyes grew wide for a moment when he grasped what his son meant, but he quickly schooled his face to its normal expression. "Is that so?" A smirk crept over his face.

"It is." Geta returned his father's smirk. :Gives you something to look forward to.:

Vegeta snorted. :Like I need to be blonde to have your mother demanding-:

Geta held up his hands. "Whoa, too much information!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly.

"I take it we missed a portion of the conversation?"

:Of all the people to ask!: "Yes, Mother," Geta responded, trying not to look at his smirking father. "Just a little of it."

"This is scary," Gohan interjected. "If Geta could beat Frieza without any trouble, we're toast once the androids get here."

Geta sighed. "You have to understand that Frieza was cocky and overconfident, and I took advantage of that. Remember how I said that it was a good thing I'd absorbed that ki blast he shot at me? _I _would have been toast unless he'd done that, and I was counting on him doing it. I did my homework on him and was ready for him. No one expected a couple of bloodthirsty, nigh indestructible androids to show up, and no one knew enough about them to defeat them. I grew up on the run from them and I've been a Super Saiyan for five years. I know about them, I have experience with them and with how to best utilize my abilities. I just didn't have the strength to carry out what needs to be done." He smiled at the worried looking boy encouragingly. "There is strength in numbers, especially so when you're prepared."

"I will be prepared," Vegeta announced. "I don't intend to die at the hands of some bloodthirsty tin cans," he retorted, unconsciously using Gohan's words from what Geta had shown him.

"We'll all be prepared," Tien agreed. "I'm going to train as hard as I can."

"Do you know what day they showed up, Geta?" Bulma asked nervously.

"Yes, the day and approximate time," Geta confirmed. "It was on the morning of May 12th, just after my third birthday. So we have a little less than three years before they show up again."

"'We', Geta? You plan on sticking around?"

Geta looked over at his father. "I'd like to," he said quietly. "I've been without everyone I care about for far too long.

Besides, there's nothing left for me to go home to in the future as it is now. If I go back they'll just get lucky one day and finally kill me." He forced a little chuckle out.

"Of course you should stay," Goku agreed. "Hey, when you get better, we can spar."

Geta couldn't help but smile. _Just what Mother said he would say._ "I'd like that."

"Not to bring up bad memories, but you said that you, Gohan and I were the only ones left, but then you said _you_ were the only one left," Bulma pointed out. "What happened to us?"

"It was you, Gohan, me and one other boy who lived with us," Geta began. "We four lived together and were constantly on the move, or so it seemed. We all relied heavily on each other to make it and grew very close. It was a struggle just to survive. Not only were we always on the run, but food was scarce. It got to the point that we took to eating dirt just so our stomachs wouldn't rumble. That was especially important because the androids had very good hearing."

"You ate _dirt?_" Yamcha asked incredulously. "I figured you'd say insects and wild mushrooms or something like that, but never dirt."

Geta nodded. "Oh, we ate those other things too when we could find them. The boy who lived with us got really good at finding worms, too," he added, knowing how much his father _hated_ worms.

Vegeta didn't disappoint. "I'd _never_ eat a worm," he declared. "Even when I had nothing to eat for weeks on end, I refused to eat worms." He shuddered. "Disgusting creatures." The very thought of eating them made him want to vomit.

A malicious grin appeared on Yamcha's face. "That's good to know. Which room is yours?"

Vegeta scowled at him. "Don't even contemplate doing it, Weakling," he warned. "I know exactly what's going on in that pebble between your ears. Don't think that I'll even hesitate to flatten your face if I find a single worm in my bed." A smirk spread over his face. "Besides, I doubt that the Woman wants to find any worms in her bed, either."

"What's that?" Bulma asked in surprise.

"That reminds me," Vegeta continued without missing a beat, "you need to do something with that mop of hair of yours if you expect me to allow you to sleep against my shoulder. I have no intention of inhaling that puffball you call your hair at night." He smirked when her jaw dropped and her eyes widened momentarily before narrowing in irritation.

Bulma got up from her seat and put her free hand on her hip. "My, my, but isn't someone being just a little presumptuous today?" she retorted, despite the fact that she'd already caught herself fantasizing about what hot things she wanted to do to him in bed that night. "What makes you think I'm not going to just toss you a blanket and a pillow and show you the couch?"

"Out of the kindness of your heart, remember?" Vegeta responded sarcastically, pleased when she blushed. "You never have before, so why would you now?"

"Because you're being an ass!"

"I remember what you said about my ass, yes," Vegeta pretended to reminisce. "You said it was-"

She blushed even more deeply. "You made fun of my hair," she interrupted. "You've been rude to me all day today."

"All right, let's settle this once and for all," Vegeta announced. "Who here thinks the Woman's hair looks ridiculous?"

Silence.

"Who here finds it both flattering and professional?"

He got a cough that time.

Vegeta roared with laughter. "Sorry, 'sweet cheeks'," he echoed her earlier jab at him, "but none of your coward friends will stick their necks out for you, not even Kakarrot, who always has something nice to say." He continued to laugh heartily.

"Anyway-" Geta interjected, this time attempting to keep his mother from strangling his father, but Gohan piped up before he could continue.

"So who was your friend that lived with you and me and Bulma? Was he a nice kid? I bet it must have been nice having a friend your age, huh?" Gohan asked brightly.

_There's no way I could tell them about Trunks!_ "Yes, it was nice. He was a couple of years younger than me, and we were good friends. But I can't tell you anything else about him, sorry," Geta answered.

"Aww, why not?" the disappointed boy asked.

"Because as I said we were good friends and I cared a lot about him. If I were to tell you too much about him, it could endanger his existence," Geta explained.

Yamcha frowned. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying we know his parents and they might not get together if they knew?"

Geta shifted a little uncomfortably. "Well, something like that," he mumbled.

"Something like that?" Yamcha echoed. "Do we know his parents?"

"Look, I can't tell you anything else, okay?" Geta responded. He was starting to become annoyed by the constant badgering when he'd already said he didn't wish to reveal anything else.

"Let me guess, his dad is in this very room," Krillin joked dramatically, making his friends snicker. Yamcha high-fived him.

Geta looked surprised for a moment but didn't say anything. He merely sighed and looked at the men horsing around in resignation.

"Holy cow, he's serious," Tien exclaimed, all three eyes widening when he saw the younger man's expression.

"Uh-oh! Run Lunch, run!" Oolong teased good-naturedly.

"No way, I don't want any kids!" Tien denied the smirking pig's accusation. "How do we know it's not your son?"

"Mine? You're joking," Oolong snorted. "More like Mr. Baseball here's kid. You know how many chicks he has drooling all over him."

Yamcha turned a bright shade of pink. "Hey, I'm always care- that's none of your business," he retorted. "How do we know Goku and Chi-Chi won't have another kid?"

Goku, who had until now been amused by the conversation to the point that he had been imagining who the mommy to each of his friends' sons might be, yelped in surprise and nearly fell off of the couch. "Me?"

"Why not? Don't you and Chi-Chi still-"

"Augh! That's my mom and dad you're talking about!" Gohan interrupted, turning an even brighter shade of pink than Yamcha had. "I don't want to talk about that! It's none of your business what they do."

"The brat is correct," Vegeta spoke up. "I have _no_ wish to hear about Kakarrot and his harpy mate copulating."

"Hey, Chi-Chi might yell sometimes but she's not a harpy," Goku objected. "She's a beautiful, wonderful woman and I love her very much." He smiled happily and sighed, obviously thinking about his wife. "Boy, can she cook..."

Geta had found it just as well that the conversation had wandered down the wrong path, seeing as no one had thought to point out his own parents as a possibility, but decided to get things back on track. "Hey, hey guys. Calm down," he called out to the bickering group. "I told you not to ask too much, didn't I? I'm only telling you what you need to know in order to prevent your deaths, remember?"

"That's right. I don't want to die yet," Oolong squealed.

"Then quiet yourself and listen to what Geta has to say," Piccolo finally spoke up. He gestured to Geta as if he now had the floor.

"Okay," Geta began, "sometime during that time Mother completed the time machine I came in, among other things."

"I meant to ask you about that," Bulma piped up, temporarily dismissing her irritation at Vegeta. "How did I manage that?"

"We never went too far away from Capsule Corp," Geta explained. "You still snuck into your secret lab on occasion. One of those times you put together that ratty suit I was wearing, and a little gadget that cast an energy shield over the suit that reacted in such a way that it rendered me nearly invisible. It got me out of a jam a time or ten, I'll tell you that."

Goku's face brightened. "Wow, that's pretty neat, Bulma! I want to see it!"

"Neat, hmph," Vegeta muttered to himself. No guessing needed on where the kid picked up that word.

"Well... I broke it today," Geta admitted sheepishly. "I was running for the lab to get the capsule with the time machine and tripped, and sort of fell on it," he murmured, a blush coloring his cheeks. "I knew I had to leave today, and the androids had been keeping tabs on Capsule Corp. for the past week. They must have known I'd want to come back today, and that the capsule was hidden in the lab."

"Why would today matter, Geta?" Oolong wanted to know. "Couldn't you have just programmed the time machine to come back today whenever you wanted?"

Geta shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. A major flaw of the time machine as it is now is that it will only go forwards and backwards through time by the _year_, not to a specific day. So when I came here, I had to travel twenty years into the past. Gero knows, or will know of your time machine, Mother, so I suggest that you destroy all copies of any schematics you have. We _don't_ want him or the androids getting their hands on them."

Bulma seemed troubled. "But, I'm not even finished designing it yet," she admitted. "I've run into a major problem that I haven't figured out a way to resolve yet."

"Want me to take a look for you?" Geta offered. "I can help you find the mistake if you want. I think I already know what it is, since you mentioned a particular thing that had been giving you problems. I should be able to determine what it is by taking a peek at your blueprints."

"Are you saying you memorized the schematics for Bulma's time machine, Geta?" Gohan asked, wide eyed.

Geta nodded. "I _had_ to. What would happen if I traveled through time only to lose or break the capsule, or if the machine stopped working? No way was I about to get trapped when I didn't belong."

"How did you memorize plans that had been destroyed?" Tien asked.

"Mother had them memorized, so she just shared with me," Geta told him, tapping his temple with a smile.

"Could you build one say, right now?" Yamcha asked.

Geta nodded. "Sure. Piece of cake." He grinned in a very Vegeta-like fashion.

"Yes, please do have a look," Bulma exclaimed. "As much as I like to finish my own designs, this one is driving me crazy."

"It's probably something simple," Geta offered. "Something that'll make you do a Homer Simpson when you realize your mistake."

Bulma giggled; she loved the Simpsons. "Do a Homer Simpson?"

"You know. D'oh!" Geta smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand for added emphasis.

Everyone except Vegeta laughed. Even Piccolo smirked at the darn good impersonation, as he had been over the Son's house before and Gohan had been watching the program on television.

"Ooooh... donuts..." Geta continued, drinking up the attention as he earned himself another laugh. "Sure, I'll take a look sometime." He stretched and let out a yawn big enough that they could see his overdeveloped canines. "Man, am I beat. So," he continued, "I hope everyone takes this as an advisory to be ready three years from now. Trust me, you don't want the future I came from."

"No, we don't want that," Goku agreed quietly. He was still distressed by the very thought that the whole situation was caused by something he thought had been a good deed.

"Well, I guess I've given you a lot to think about," Geta told them. "I'd like to rest for a while, so I'm going to excuse myself."

"We should probably get going anyway, Gohan," Goku mused. "Your mom doesn't even know I'm back yet, does she?"

"I don't think so," Gohan began hesitantly.

"You haven't even gotten in touch with Chi-Chi yet?" Bulma exclaimed. "Go on home, you big goof!"

Goku laughed and rubbed his hand along the back of his head in that manner that Vegeta so hated. "Okay, Son. Let's go home. Give me your hand."

Gohan blushed. "I think I can manage flying home myself, Dad."

"But I learned a new technique while I was gone. It's called instant transmission. See?" Goku put two fingers to his forehead and disappeared, only to walk back inside the doorway in the next instant. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"Wow, cool! Will you teach me Dad?" Gohan asked excitedly.

"Sure! But Bulma's right. I need to get home and see your Mom. Well, bye guys! See you later. Hey, I wonder what's for dinner-" Goku disappeared with his son mid-sentence.

"That _is_ pretty cool," Krillin agreed.

"Yes, and it would be cool if you idiots could do it too. Then perhaps you would also leave," Vegeta grumbled irritably. What _else_ could this third class moron do that he couldn't? "Can you not see that my son is tired?"

"Guys? It's hot outside. Can I come in yet?" Puar's voice squeaked from the kitchen.

"We were just leaving anyway, Puar," Yamcha called back. "A certain someone has gotten cranky. Maybe _he_ should take a nap." He looked pointedly at Vegeta before leaving the den.

"Rude," Tien muttered as the group trudged out of the den and left.

Bulma crossed her arms and scowled at her mate. "Yes, you were rather rude."

"They left, did they not?" Vegeta pointed out. "Would you rather I physically kicked them out?"

"No," Bulma agreed. "I guess not." She turned her attention back to Geta. "I'll make you up a room and you can rest for a while," she offered.

"That sounds great, but I have way too much on my mind to be able to sleep right now," Geta told her. "I thought it would be advisable to discuss a few things privately, without the whole group here. Why don't we take a look at those schematics, while I'm thinking of it?"

"Let's head over to the lab," Bulma suggested. "We can access the files from my desk."

Geta nodded in agreement. "That'll work." He frowned. "That poor little cat didn't have to stay outdoors," he murmured contritely. "Wait... oh, great. Gramps has a cat." He sighed. "It must not have been in the den lately, because I'm not wheezing."

"We'll make you up a preventative allergy shot or pill," Bulma told him. "You're not allergic to anything else are you?" She'd been surprised enough by the fact that _anything_ made her half Saiyan son sick.

"Got something to write with?" Geta asked, a hint of sarcasm to his voice.

Bulma blinked at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Shellfish, peanuts, bee stings, cigarette smoke, dust, and really icky perfumes set me off. Oh, and I get hayfever too."

"You're allergic to that many things?" Bulma asked in astonishment. "How could you be? I thought Saiyans didn't get sick."

Vegeta snorted. "No, Saiyans don't get sick. But wait, aren't you allergic to bees also, Bulma?" he asked mock innocently. "It looks like you got the best of both worlds, hmm Son? Amazing that you're still alive."

Geta shrugged. "Nobody's perfect, I guess."

"Shut up, Vegeta. Don't worry, Geta. I'll run a few tests and we'll whip you something up." _Cats and cigarette smoke. Wonderful. Maybe this will be an incentive for Daddy to quit smoking,_ Bulma contemplated as they entered the lab. She laid her infant son in a crib by her desk and smiled down at the sleeping child.

Geta sat down in front of the computer and cracked his knuckles. "Cool." He moved the mouse to deactivate the screen saver.

"I forgot that it's thumbprint protected," Bulma commented. "Here, let me get that for you."

"That's okay, I'll just override it with the password. No biggie." Geta rested his elbow against the desk, chin in hand, and tapped a finger against his lip as he thought for a moment, then sat up and typed a few characters. "Nope..." He typed a few more. "Hey, second try. Not bad," he murmured softly.

Bulma's jaw dropped. "But... how... That's not even a real word! How the _hell_ did you crack that password?" she demanded.

"What, and give away all of my secrets? Never!" Geta winked at his astonished mother. "If you must know, it's a good idea to choose new administrator passwords instead of just recycling the list," he informed her. "I just happened to type the correct one the second time. I got good enough at it that I had the entire list cracked by the time I was five. You're actually pretty predictable." He grinned at his now irritated mother. "What?"

"That's good advice. Thank you."

"Mmm-hmm."

"So, how did you learn to crack passwords?" Bulma asked.

Geta laughed. "Oh, I had a good teacher."

"Who?" Bulma demanded. "The only other person with administrative access on my lab network is Daddy, so why would he need to..." She spun on her heel. There was another person she thought of who might have access to her things and would no doubt get a kick out of the fact that he could break into her system. "Why, you dirty little snoop!" she spat, poking her finger Vegeta's way.

Vegeta blinked and drew back slightly, a frown on his face. "What the hell are you talking about, Woman? I've hardly ever been in your stupid lab! Why the hell would I care about your damn passwords?" he snapped defensively.

"Am I right, Geta?"

"What's that? Please speak into my good ear," Geta muttered, his attention deliberately focused on the task at hand.

"Why would your father teach you to crack passwords?" Bulma demanded, still glaring at her unrepentant mate.

"For the same reason he taught me to pick locks, open safes, get past heavy security undetected, and make a good weld," Geta informed her. "Because he wanted to see what a half breed little kid was capable of, and got a kick out of not only watching me do it, but also the knowledge that he was the one who taught me to do it." He couldn't hold back his grin at the expression on his mother's face. "Maybe it made me more useful, who knows?"

As she had suspected- he got a kick out of it! "You would hand a blow torch to a _three-year-old_ and tell him to have at it?" Bulma shrieked. "Are you completely insane?"

Vegeta merely shrugged and smirked at her. By the gods, was she alluring when she was angry! "Sure, why not? He still has all of his fingers, does he not?"

"Yeah. And correction: two-year-old," Geta supplied. "Actually, Mother, the excuse Father gave for teaching me to weld was that my hands were smaller than his and so I could get in closer. Not that this would lessen the size of the blow torch, but I digress. Personally, I think he just didn't want to do the work himself." Geta grinned.

"What work?"

Geta looked back over to his mother. "Sometimes you got mad enough at Father that you refused to fix the GR, so he decided to do it himself and had me-" he made the 'quote' sign with his fingers- "'help' him to spite you. I dare say it worked."

Bulma scowled at her mate's satisfied smirk. "You would, too," she accused him darkly.

"Hold on a moment, Mother. Before you get angry, you should know that everything that Father taught me had real value later on in life. I was able to escape a couple of times by the skin of my teeth because of the so-called naughty things I learned. For instance, if I hadn't known how to re-wire a security panel, I would've been toast at one point in my life in particular." Neither of them said anything; in fact, they were both looking at him in expectation so he continued. "We obviously couldn't live here any longer after the androids arrived, but you did have a secret lab I mentioned earlier and a stash of goods here that the androids didn't know about at first. I snuck in one time to get a part you needed, knowing that they'd reprogrammed Capsule Corps' security system to catch us if we tried to come back in. I _just_ escaped unscathed."

"What was it you needed?" Bulma wanted to know. "What could be so important that I would let you risk your life to steal it?"

"A component of what I believe it is that you're missing for your time machine. It took you years to gather everything you needed to build it." Geta perused the hidden file he'd not so miraculously found for the time capsule and winced. "Oh yeah. Definitely a rough draft," he murmured softly.

Vegeta stepped closer to peer over his son's shoulder. Now that he knew a time machine really was possible, he was fascinated by the idea of it. Just think of what he could _do_ with such a device!

"Can you update it for me?" Bulma asked eagerly.

"Sure I could. I'd be glad to help. Actually, either of us could. I wasn't the one who fixed your design." Geta sat up straight in his chair and looked up at his father expectantly.

"Either of you?" Bulma echoed.

Gaping, Bulma looked at Vegeta, to Geta, then back to Vegeta again. Vegeta had figured out what was wrong with her design? "Are you saying...?"

"Yes, that's pretty much the look you gave him when you saw what he'd drawn on your blueprints," Geta responded casually. "Father loved to sneak into your lab and one-up your designs. Boy oh boy, were you _mad_ when he figured out this time machine, because it was such a simple answer to such a complex problem." He turned away from the computer. "But, I didn't bring any of this up to embarrass either of you. Man, I'm tired."

Bulma regained her composure. "How did you know how to fix my designs?" she asked quietly. "Or the GR, or anything? You fixed the refrigerator while my parents were gone and I was stuck in bed, didn't you? Mom said it was making a funny thumping noise before they left..." She trailed off.

Vegeta looked uncomfortable. He didn't like being put on the spot. "The noise stopped, didn't it?"

"How did you do it, Vegeta? How would you know? And all that detail you gave me for that regeneration tank you asked me to build. How did you know about the inner workings of a machine you'd only ever seen before?" Bulma asked incredulously.

Vegeta shifted on his feet. He could have told Bulma that he didn't owe her any explanations but decided to just answer the question. "I snuck past security on Frieza's ship and stole the machinery tech's toolbox," he admitted. "Then I took a portion of the tank apart and looked inside, then put it back together. I did this a few times until I'd examined the entire thing. I wanted to know how it worked. What if I needed one someday?"

"And you remembered all of that detail? How old were you?"

"Seven."

"Huh." Bulma smiled sweetly. "Well, I guess you won't be asking me to fix the GR anymore, will you?"

"I haven't taken it apart to see how it works yet, have I?" Vegeta countered. "Nor have you shown me the schematics for it."

Bulma shook her head. "What else is locked away in that brain of yours, I wonder?" she mused. "Well, let's put this little man down and get you a room, Geta." She scooped VJ up carefully so as not to wake him and left the lab. "Come on guys, so I can lock up."

She didn't want to know, Vegeta decided. _He_ didn't like knowing the things locked away in his mind. "I'm going to train," he muttered, not waiting for an answer before heading outside.

"But... what was that all about?" Bulma mused as the proud prince strode past her.

Geta shrugged. "Maybe he'll tell you someday. I know there are some things I've experienced that I'd rather keep locked away, too."

Suddenly realizing what her son meant, Bulma secured the lab without another word and headed for the nursery.

* * *

Bulma put the now cold food she'd cooked for Vegeta into Tupperware and slid the containers into the refrigerator with a sigh. He hadn't come in for dinner, even when she'd sent him a message telling him it was ready. Whatever had bothered him must have been weighing pretty heavily on his mind if he'd refused to come in for a meal, especially after not having even had the chance to finish his barbeque earlier that day.

Her baby was asleep and Geta had already gone to his room for the evening, so she decided to get into bed herself. She had an early morning meeting the next day, so she was better off going to bed anyway. There was, however, something weighing heavily on her own mind, and it wasn't what Geta had told them earlier that day.

Vegeta.

She couldn't get him out of her head. He'd both annoyed and aroused her since the moment he'd gotten back that day, and her plans to give him the ass kicking he deserved had quickly fizzled when he'd kissed her so passionately that afternoon, when he'd held her in his arms. She still loved him desperately, damn it, and there was no sense in denying that she'd been looking forward to welcoming him into her bed that night.

This begged a different question: what would their adult son think? Based on the little bits of information he'd dropped earlier that day, Bulma had deduced that the relationship Geta had witnessed between them as a child hadn't been the most loving. He even knew what hurtful words would come out of their mouths next. She sighed still again. She wanted Vegeta back in her life, but she didn't think she could handle a rocky, hurtful relationship.

It didn't take her long to decide that he was worth any effort, especially since now they knew what things they could avoid. It could be better. It _would_ be better.

She laid back against her pillows and turned her head to look at the spot where her mate once slept. It appeared that once again it would remain empty. She grabbed the pillow from his side of the bed and curled up with it dejectedly.

* * *

"No... no!" Bulma screamed, thrashing under the sheets. She continued to whimper, tears spilling from her eyes as the dream continued. "Nooo!"

Geta sat bolt upright in bed, having heard her, and rushed out of the room. "Mother?" he called worriedly through the door. "Mother? Are you all right?" He knocked lightly on the door. "Mother!" His concern that she did not respond overpowered his desire to respect her privacy and he opened the door. "Mother?"

"No..."

Geta didn't know if she was answering that she was not all right or if she was still dreaming. Either way he determined that he should check on her and quickly moved to the side of the bed. "Mother?" He took hold of her shoulder and shook her gently. "Are you all right-"

She shrieked at his touch, still in that place halfway between asleep and awake, and gasped upon realizing that someone was leaning over her. When she saw the regal upsweep of hair silhouetted by the light coming in from the hallway, she sat bolt upright.

"Vegeta!" she exclaimed in relief, throwing her arms around him to draw him closer. She buried her face in his neck. "Oh, Vegeta, I was so scared..." She trailed off upon the sudden realization that she was not clinging to the same Vegeta she _thought _she was. "Uhmm... oh, Geta, I..." She disentangled herself from her son's neck, her cheeks flushing pink. "This is rather, uhm..."

"Awkward?" he offered.

"Yes. Just a wee bit."

"Think nothing of it," he reassured her. He reached over to turn on her bedside lamp and sat down next to her. "Mother, are you crying? No, no, don't cry. It was just a bad dream," he soothed, putting an arm over her shoulders and reaching over with his free hand to grab a tissue.

She found herself automatically leaning into the gentle embrace he offered. _Strange... I've known this man for a matter of mere hours and already I'm as comfortable around him as if I _had_ raised him._ "Thank you, Geta," she sniffled. "It was a terrible dream."

"If you'd like to talk about it, I'm all ears," he offered, rubbing her back in gentle little circles. Gradually she grew calm, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat and even breathing.

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, but I don't want to think about it right now. It was very disturbing." Just as she was about to ask, he handed her another tissue. She couldn't help but let out a shaky little laugh as she took it from him and blew her nose. "You're a natural at comforting crying women, you know?"

A low laugh rumbled against her ear. "Thanks. Kami knows I've had plenty of practice."

"Oh, dear... was I really _that_ bad?" she joked.

"Well, on occasion you'd have a good cry, but..." His hand stopped rubbing and he stared ahead silently.

"What is it, Geta?" Roles reversed, she sat up and looked at him with concern. "Is it something I said? What's wrong?"

"No, no, not at all," he assured her, smiling down at her. "Everything's fine." _Now is not quite the most appropriate time to mention your dead wife and son._ He rubbed her arm consolingly, widening the smile. "Are you all right now?" he asked, effectively redirecting all concern to her.

Bulma nodded. "Yes, I'm fine now," she responded, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. "Thanks for coming in to check up on me."

"Hey, it's the least I could do for you, Mother," he responded, rising from the bed so she could readjust the covers.

She smiled up at him with a pleased look on her face. "I must have done right by you somehow," she told him. "I'm so proud that despite everything you told us, you turned out to be such a wonderful young man."

"You did just fine, Mother. I'm proud of the woman you'll become," Geta responded, giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading for the door. "Good night," he whispered, pulling the bedroom door shut behind himself. Just before it closed, he heard her voice.

"Geta?"

He reopened the door and stuck his head back in the room. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Could you do me a favor?" she asked a little timidly.

"As long as it doesn't involve felines or shellfish, absolutely," he replied playfully.

Bulma laughed. "Can you tell if your father is around right now?" she inquired.

"I believe he is training right now..." He paused, searching for his father's ki. "Yes, he's in the GR. Why? Did you need to speak to him?"

"I think he'd like to hear about my dream," she confirmed, "especially since he was in it and it wasn't a good thing." _Which is a lot less racy than telling him I need to be comforted and want him here with me._

Geta nodded. "Understandable. Would you like me to go get him for you?"

Bulma contemplated this. If Vegeta didn't feel whatever it was she wanted was worth interrupting his training, not only would he not come in but he'd be mad about it, and she'd hear about it for sure. "You wouldn't mind?" she asked in a tiny voice. Her hands clutched the sheets, drawing them up close around her.

"Not at all. I'll go get him." Geta shut the door and headed for the GR and his father.

* * *

_knock knock knock_

Vegeta growled. _Who the hell is bothering me while I'm training? Doesn't everyone in this damn house know better by now?_ He didn't detect a very discernable ki- even Bulma's was easily detectable to him- and it annoyed him to find himself in the dark as to who would dare disturb him. "Get lost!"

_knock knock knock_

"Computer, terminate the current training session," Vegeta demanded, heading for the door angrily as the room powered down and the gravity levels returned to normal. "What the hell is your problem?" he shouted, opening the door violently, teeth bared. "Don't you understand simple Stand... ard..." He trailed off, eyes momentarily widening slightly in embarrassment as he discovered who the offending party was. "Geta? Aww, damn it..."

Geta stood outside the capsule, arms crossed over his chest and a ticked off expression on his face, unconsciously perfecting his father's usual attitude. "Well, always a joy to see you as well, Father. Now I remember that there _was_ a reason that Mother never liked to interrupt your training." He scowled, chin tilting up haughtily. "Hmph."

Vegeta growled to cover up his embarrassment. "I didn't know it was you, Boy. Why the hell are you masking your ki, anyway?" he asked, ignoring the deliberately aimed jab about his behavior toward Bulma.

Geta decided to just let it slide. Whether or not Vegeta was being rude, he had been raised to honor those older than himself, most especially his parents and grandparents. Not to mention the simple fact that even though he was Vegeta's son, his father still deserved the honor due royalty higher than himself. It was odd thinking of himself as royalty, but royalty he was indeed. He let out a long sigh. "Sorry, it's a habit, I guess. I got used to masking my ki on a constant basis once I became a serious target of the androids. I only find myself letting it go when I don't feel threatened at all."

_So he feels threatened by me._ "It's unfortunate that you feel that way, because I could easily feel your ki while you were in the house."

Geta took this as an unspoken apology; as close to one as he'd ever get, anyway. "Well, I guess this house, this place," he began, indicating his surroundings with a sweeping wave of his hand, "is kind of like a little kid's security blanket to me. Even though I have some absolutely horrendous memories of things that happened here, even on this very spot where we stand, everything here is _exactly_ the way I remember it as a small child, until the androids came and kill..." He inhaled quickly, changing his choice of words. "Until they attacked." He gave his father what could almost qualify asa lopsided smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm still just kind of messed up from some things that happened before I came here is all. I'll calm down once I can relax and unwind a little." Sensing his father's curiosity piquing, he changed gears before Vegeta could ask any questions. "But enough about me. I actually came out here because Mother woke up terrified and screaming and wants to talk to you. She said it was a very disturbing dream, and that _you_ were in it. She wouldn't give me any details about whatever it was about." He kicked at a tuft of grass with his toe, unearthing it. "It couldn't have been anything at all pleasant on your part, because when she woke up, she clung to me like white on rice, only she thought I was _you_ when she did it."

Vegeta listened to his son's words uneasily. "You think it was something about those androids you told us about?" he offered.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Geta muttered sheepishly. "I can see how it would unnerve her. Hell, sometimes _I_ still wake up scared out of my mind from my dreams." He paused for a moment before sneaking a sideways glace at his father, who had yet to reply to that rather private revelation, and decided to take advantage of his silent acceptance. "I didn't want to unload any of this on her, but on the same token, it wouldn't exactly be fair or considerate of me to keep her in the dark, either." He kicked the clump of grass he'd loosened from the ground hard, pulverizing it into tiny fragments of earth and green. "I could tell that she really seemed to want you there, Father, even though she only told me that you might be interested in hearing about her dream because you were in it." _C'mon Mother, give me a little credit here. Does she really think that I wouldn't notice, that I wouldn't _know_ that she's in love with Father, after watching her inwardly mourn him until she died too? I hope to Kami that he doesn't take advantage of that._

Vegeta had been staring up at the night sky while his son spoke. He knew already that Geta was no fool, and knew his mother better than anyone else did, himself included. "She'll bitch and complain if I don't go in there," he muttered, but his voice didn't convey the annoyance it normally would have. "I suppose I should just go see what she wants and get it over with."

Geta made absolutely no effort to hide the amusement in his eyes. His father would discover in time that he was much more perceptive than he thought so far. "Yes, well, tell Mother good night for me, will you please?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Vegeta growled, waving him off as he began to levitate toward the house and Bulma's balcony. "Go back to bed, smartass."

Geta saluted him respectfully. "Good night to you as well, Father," he responded softly as he too made his way back to the house and his own room.

* * *

Bulma sat back against the head board and wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees. _Will he really come? If he does, will it only be to complain that I so cowardly sent Geta to interrupt him, or will he actually let me talk to him? What should I say to him? I don't think I can handle it if he just blows me off._ The nervous thoughts raced through her brain at a furious pace but she made no attempt to chase them away. Anything was better than thinking about that awful dream, alone and in the dark. Even though she knew in her heart that she was asking far too much of him, she had an urgent desire for Vegeta to hold her in his arms, to stroke her hair gently, to whisper in her ear that everything would be all right, to... She sighed and closed her eyes.

A sudden rapping at the window startled her from her thoughts and she hurriedly slid off the bed to unlatch the lock. She stepped aside as Vegeta floated into the room and stood before her in his typical Vegeta stance.

"Well? What is it, Woman-"

Bulma's face crumpled. _He came for me!_ "Oh, Vegeta!" She threw her arms around the startled Saiyan prince. "Please hold me for a little while," she implored him, turning her tear stained face up to look at him. Another fat tear rolled its way down her cheek and she let her face collapse against his chest. "Just hold me!"

He remained motionless for a moment before hesitantly encircling his arms around the woman clinging desperately to him. He had even less of a clue of how best to calm the sobbing woman in his embrace than he did on how to quiet his fussing son. The worst part was that, although he refused admit it even to himself, his attraction to Bulma continued to grow stronger all the time, and the fact that the only partially clad woman was pressing every delectably soft curve of her body against him wasn't helping in the least. "Okay... all right, Woman," he murmured in a low voice, patting her back awkwardly. He honestly didn't know what else to say or do.

Bulma let out a sigh, then moved back just enough to scrub a hand across her face. "I- I'm sorry," she apologized, embarrassed. "I just had the worst dream, and you were in it." The last part came out as a whisper. "I was just relieved to see you is all." She raised her face again to look at him.

_Good Kami, she's beautiful._ "Would you like to tell me about it?" he continued in the same low voice, hardly aware that he was smoothing a tear from her cheek.

She sniffled and nodded. "I guess so." Vegeta found himself unexpectedly disappointed when she unwrapped her arms from around him and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come here and sit with me," she whispered, patting the mattress next to her.

Without even thinking about it, he found himself obeying as he sat down next to her. The arousal he'd felt when he held Bulma in his arms returned with a vengeance when she curled up against his side. "Tell me about it, Bulma," he coaxed gently. "What got you so upset?" He could hardly believe that the sight of Bulma in tears because of a dream involving him could make him act in such a weak manner. Even more unexpected was the sudden realization that at the moment, he honestly didn't give a damn.

She was quiet a moment before daring to edge herself between his arm and body, sighing contentedly when he didn't try to prevent her and actually curled his arm around her body. "I dreamt that I was back on Namek, and the baby was lost," she began. "I could hear him crying but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find him anywhere. I ran around frantically until I finally saw him. I was about to scoop him up when I noticed that he was just covered with blood."

Vegeta's brow furrowed. "I can see how that would be disturbing," he offered when she paused to blow her nose, bothered himself by the thought. "Could you tell what happened to him?"

She nodded and leaned back against him again. "I picked him up to look him over and he seemed all right, and for some reason I knew it wasn't his blood on him. I got this really creepy, sickened feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I knew that something was terribly wrong.

"Suddenly VJ started crying hysterically and his little fingers were flailing behind me, as though he was reaching for something." She closed her eyes momentarily before continuing. "I- I turned around to see whatever it was that had his attention and I could see someone lying on the ground. Somehow I knew... I just knew, but I didn't believe it. I ran over and knelt on the ground and you..." She sucked in a ragged breath. "You were... you were _dead!_" She began to cry again, head bent down and her face in her hands. "It wasn't just dead, it was... gruesome. Like a hate crime, or someone had gotten a sick thrill out of hurting you. I started to scream, and I could hear voices laughing and saying all these horrible derogatory things which I won't repeat, so don't even ask. Then a shadowy figure came out of nowhere and was reaching for VJ and me. That's when he woke me up." Her voice wavered as she spoke.

Vegeta didn't know what to say. Geta hadn't gone into detail about how he or any of the others had died, except what he'd shown him privately. _I'll have to talk to him more about it. But I'm not sure how much I want Bulma to know._ "Shhh, Woman, don't cry," he told her in a helpless attempt to calm her. "It's okay, Bulma. Shhhh..." He pulled her onto his lap, his arms cradling her close to his chest.

They sat there in silence for a moment as her sobs began to subside somewhat when suddenly she spoke. "I- I wondered at first why I would dream about Namek when I realized that what happened there, how you died, had affected me more than I thought at the time. I realize that now." She wiped her cheeks with the back of one hand. "I know we both say all sorts of stupid things to each other but I also know that neither of us really, truly means it underneath it all." She looked up at him, their eyes locking, and reached up to cup the side of his face gently with one hand. "I don't want you to die, Vegeta," she whispered, "and it scares me."

His face softened as the double meaning of her words sank in. "Bulma, I..." He trailed off, hearing her words again in his mind. _I don't want you to die, Vegeta, and it scares me..._ He raised a hand to cover hers. "I don't want that either, Bulma," he whispered back, "not to any of us."

Trembling, she slid both arms around his chest, holding him close. "Don't leave me... I don't want to be alone, Vegeta."

_What does she mean by that? Another play on words?_ "You won't be, Bulma." His hands smoothed over her back and he tightened his grasp around her body, desperately willing his own to behave. He rested the side of his chin against her forehead. "I swear it."

Her eyes closed when she felt his lips brush against her forehead ever so gently. "I'm sorry you had such grief over this dream, Bulma. I swear to you that I will do whatever is necessary to keep you and our son safe until my dying breath." He rested his chin back down against her forehead. "But for now, you should get some sleep."

Bulma sat up in his arms. "No, Vegeta, don't go," she implored. "Stay with me."

He grunted an affirmation. "I will stay until you fall asleep if you wish."

She looked deep into his eyes again. "No, I mean... _stay_ with me tonight," she whispered, turning in his arms to face him better. Her arms slid up and around his neck, drawing him closer. "I need you- I _want_ you so much tonight."

He drew in a deep breath. Her warm lips were slightly parted and _so_ close to his own, _so_ accessible... Her soft curves felt _so_ good pressed against his body... _Kami knows I want her more than anything right now, but Geta knows about all of this. I have to be absolutely certain that this is what she wants. Kami, I _hope_ it is..._ "Are you sure about this?" he asked, trying to keep the regret that she may not be certain out of his voice. He knew he was utterly failing to maintain any semblance of control, and his body was betraying him. "What will Geta say? I don't want him thinking that I..."

"Took advantage of my weakened state of mind and my concern for you?" she finished.

He nodded dumbly, staring at the floor. "Yes..." He hated how pathetic his voice had just sounded. _All over a woman... A human woman... A damn _sexy_ woman._ He sighed, trying to clear his head of the traitorous thoughts. _And here I am being honorable for once. Stupid idiot!_

Bulma slid off of his lap, making him feel even worse. _So she isn't sure after all._

"You want this Vegeta, don't you?" she asked softly.

"You're a mistress of the obvious, Woman," Vegeta muttered wearily, his elbows on his knees and forehead resting in one hand. His shorts were painfully tight, his pulse racing, his body afire with his overwhelming desire for her.

"Then I'm _positive_ about this." As he stared at the floor, his sensitive hearing detected the soft whisper of silk sliding down her body to pool at his feet.

He lifted his eyes slowly, his gaze following up her now nude figure. He began to breathe even faster, helpless to look away. He wanted her so badly that in another minute he thought he'd die if he couldn't have her. He sucked in his breath and groaned as she took a step forward to sit on his lap, her legs straddling his hips.

"I want you tonight, right now. Make love to me, Vegeta," she demanded breathily, nuzzling his neck. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling their bodies closer together. "I want to feel you inside of me." She bit down hard on his earlobe, licking it and sucking it into her mouth.

He needed no further encouragement as he turned them over and pressed her back into the mattress, devouring her mouth with his own.


	10. Chapter 10

Updated 12/25/09

AN: I don't really have anything to say about this chapter other than it's a little angsty in parts, something major happens, and it turns out happy in the end. If I say anything else you might as well not read it. So just read it and let me know what you think.

Many thanks to everyone who has left a review. It doesn't take long and it's very encouraging to get them. So c'mon, people! Just click the button and drop me a line. Give me your opinion on what you think.

One more rambling- have any other authors had trouble with their formatting? I have tried to use asterisks (for "sound" words and as section dividers), tildes (thoughts), underscores (where young Vegeta was speaking the foreign language in the flashback in Chapter Four) and pointed brackets (the Saiyan language) but none of them show up! The only thing that has shown up has been :telepathy:. This is irritating for me and I'm sure it's making things difficult to read for all of you. I am going to put thoughts and sounds in italics and /Saiyan/ for the Saiyan language. If you find the lack of formatting irritating (I'm very sorry about it!) enough that you can't read the story, it's also on MM and everything shows up there. Please don't give up on me! I'm trying!

Finally, thanks to my hubby for reading this for me. :)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Ten

"Good morning, Father." Geta glanced up from the morning paper spread out in front of him on the kitchen table.

"Mm-hmm." Vegeta shuffled over to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug of the dark liquid, grimacing at it. "I don't know why I drink this foul concoction," he commented. "The blonde woman made me try it. Most of what she prepares for consumption is acceptable, but this..." He indicated the steaming mug. "This... stuff, for lack of a better word, is terrible." He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of creamer, dumping a rather generous amount into his coffee before following suit with sugar. "Stupid flighty woman," he grumbled into his mug, taking a large gulp.

Geta ignored the comment about his grandmother. Although he loved her dearly, he had to admit that his father _did_ have a point. On the other hand, she could be quite perceptive and sharp as a tack when the situation required it. His father would soon find that out if he hadn't already. "Addicted, are we?" he commented, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Well, there are much worse vices to have. Don't you agree, Stinky?"

"Stinky?" Vegeta turned to look at his son and noticed for the first time that the young man was holding his infant counterpart in the crook of one arm and a bottle in the other hand, feeding the greedily guzzling baby. "Oh. I wondered what the hell you were talking about."

"Yeah, well, you know babies. They excel at dumping a load as soon as you've changed their diapers, don't they? Of course you do!"

Vegeta watched the behavior of his adult son with curiosity. "So you know all about babies, huh? I'm curious," he admitted, "as to the extreme fascination you have with caring for your younger self in particular when you know that your mother would take perfectly acceptable care of him."

Geta removed the bottle from the baby's mouth and put him up to his shoulder to pat the little back gently. "I guess I just like babies," he confessed, looking over at the dark haired head resting against his shoulder. "Besides, this little guy reminds me-" He stopped short. _Of my own son._ "Did you want something for breakfast? I'm just having this," he wrinkled up his nose at the bowl of hot cereal sitting nearby on the table, "but if you want something I'll get it for you," he offered a little awkwardly. He had almost mentioned his own son and didn't feel up to explaining things about his wife and child at the moment. Offering breakfast was the first thought that had popped into his mind.

"Can't you attempt to eat something more substantial than that mush you have?"

Geta sighed mentally, partly from relief for the swing of the topic of conversation and partly out of sheer frustration. "Well, sure I'd like something different Father, but I don't think I could digest it properly yet," he responded seriously. "I'd probably throw it all back up."

"Right... Never mind." His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Still, if I were you, I'd be eating steak and eggs instead of that stuff."

"Don't torture me, please," Geta grumbled, his stomach following suit. "Kami knows I'd love that, but I've had so little _real_ food to eat in so long that I doubt I could handle it. Just that handful of chips I ate yesterday almost tore my insides to shreds. I'm completely drained. In fact, I doubt I could even manage a simple ki blast right now. It's going to take me a while to get back on par." He stopped rubbing the little back of the baby in his arms and wrinkled his nose in displeasure. "Speaking as we were about stinky babies, this guy definitely fits the bill. Phew!" He paused. "You know, if you want to take him, I'll still-"

"Oh no, not a chance in hell," Vegeta flatly refused. "I'm not changing any crap filled diapers." His arms crossed over his chest in distaste.

"Well, I can't lay him down right now since I haven't finished burping him yet, so I guess we'll have to wait for Mother." Geta leaned over and took a bite of his cereal, his eyes locked firmly onto his father. "You know, as I recall this stuff isn't half bad when you add some brown sugar, raisins and a bit of milk. There's more on the stove if you'd like some. Is Mother working today? If so, she shouldn't be _too_ much longer coming downsta-"

Vegeta growled. _The boy is as bad as his grandmother, only without the insane giggling._ "Quit the chattering and hand me the brat," he interrupted impatiently, holding out his hands.

"Okay, sure." Geta rose from his chair and handed the baby to his father, a perfect self-satisfied Bulma expression on his face, all the way down to the laughing blue eyes. "Here you go. Let's see what I can find." He began to poke around in the fridge. "Oh, these sausages look _so_ good."

Vegeta could see the little twitch of his son's lips as he held back his amusement. "Jackass."

That having been said, Geta made no effort to hide the twinkle in his eyes as he looked over at his father before turning to the stove. "You might want to get a good one out of him before he throws up all over," he suggested. "Mother told me I was pretty bad about that until I was a few months old."

Growling, Vegeta left the kitchen for the bathroom nearby. The things he did for a hot meal! That woman had better make it up to him today. "Where the hell does she keep the Kami damned diapers in here?"

* * *

The smell of sizzling sausages and blueberry pancakes made Vegeta hurriedly finish his task and he rushed back into the kitchen. "Fine, I changed him," he muttered, dropping down into the chair Geta had vacated. "Now give me my breakfast, Susie Homemaker!" he demanded.

"It's not done cooking yet," his son responded, breaking eggs into another frying pan on the stove.

"Well, hurry it up."

"Tsk, tsk… don't you know that perfection takes time?" Geta grinned. "Perfection. Yeah, right…"

"Can't be any worse than your mother's cooking," Vegeta grumbled, watching his son pour juice and milk and set them down in front of him.

"Actually, I'm not bad at fixing breakfast," he admitted. "I'm pretty quick at it, too. I _love_ breakfast. It's my favorite thing." The toaster popped and he reached over to add the new slices to the ever growing stack before slathering butter all over them. "Here's the syrup… and the butter…" He began taking plates of food over to the table, watching his father eye the blueberry pancakes, maple syrup, eggs, bacon, sausages, fried potatoes, toast and fruit being set before him hungrily.

Vegeta's stomach growled. "Is this it?" he demanded. "This is little more than a snack."

"Ungrateful." Geta grabbed his bowl of cereal and sank down onto another chair next to his father. "Be glad you get anything at all. Here, give him to me and I'll put him in his carrier thingy over here."

Vegeta passed the baby over to Geta, who put him in the baby carrier and set it on top of the table. Snagging his newspaper back, Geta ate with one hand and rocked the carrier with the other as he read. There was quiet in the kitchen while the two ate until Vegeta finished, his plates neatly stacked, and got up from the table. "I'm going to train," he informed his son.

Geta looked up from his newspaper, opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Sure."

"What?"

"What, what?"

"You looked like you were going to say something to me but stopped," Vegeta commented.

Geta sighed. He was actually getting along with his father; should he speak his mind and ruin it? "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Mother was deeply distraught last night," Geta mumbled quietly. "How could you-"

_I knew this was coming._ "I don't owe you any explanations, Boy. What I do is my own personal business and therefore none of your concern." He crossed his arms and scowled down at his son.

Geta scowled back up at his father. "I'm making Mother's health and happiness my concern," he retorted, "and since your so-called 'personal business' often tends to involve her, it's my business too how she's treated, especially by you."

"Don't presume to tell me what I should and should not do," Vegeta snarled. "If I allowed others to order me around, _you_ would not be here right now. Your mother is an adult and able to make her own decisions. Not that it is any business of yours, but she could have dismissed me after we spoke and given the circumstances I would have accepted and respected her decision. She chose not to. She did not want to be alone and asked me to stay."

"So you thought that gave you free reign to-"

"This conversation is over, Brat," Vegeta interrupted angrily. "I am your father and your better. Do not make the mistake of forgetting your place."

The two glared at each other in silence, neither willing to be the one to drop their gaze. Their staring match was interrupted when Bulma breezed through the kitchen door.

"Good morning, little angel!" she cooed into the carrier on the table, kissing her son's tiny nose. "I see you've been fed and changed. How nice!" She turned to Geta. "Good morning, big angel!" she sang, giggling as he blushed slightly when she gave his cheek a kiss under the watchful eye of his father. Her eyes averted to Vegeta. "As for you, you're almost as much of an angel as I am." Walking over to him, she giggled again and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his ear close. "I'd say good morning to you too tiger, but unfortunately I have a breakfast meeting and there's just no _time_ for that," she purred seductively, nipping at his ear as she pressed her body close against his. She was wearing a silk robe that, while it covered her decently enough, did not help in the slightest to block the feeling of her soft, warm curves against his chest. "Mmmm… I thought it smelled yummy in here. Whatever it was you were eating smells pretty good, too."

Vegeta felt his cheeks grow hot and his pulse begin to race. He could plainly see over Bulma's shoulder that their son was watching them intently. Even if he and Geta hadn't had the conversation they did, Vegeta was not one who was big on open displays of affection. He cleared his throat. "Woman, we're _not-_" He jumped as she nuzzled her way down his neck, her tongue flicking out to lick his bare shoulder as he fought back the strong urge to take her right then and there in the kitchen. "We're not alone, you know."

Bulma lifted her head and gave him a pouty look. "Oh, Vegeta, you're being a prude," she pouted, running her fingers through his hair. "We're his _parents_, for heaven's sake. And Geta's an adult, so give him a little credit. I think he knows how the mommy and daddy thing works." Her fingertips left his hair to tickle their way down his chest, making him shiver. "Besides, if you didn't want me pawing all over you this morning, you should have put on something with a little more coverage than a pair of spandex shorts."

He grabbed her wrists before they reached their intended destination. "Woman, please, I-"

"Oh sweetie, you don't need to beg. It's demeaning." She gave him a heated look. "I do hope you'll be easier to seduce tonight than you were last night," she murmured breathily. "Would it help if I went lingerie shopping on my lunch hour?"

Vegeta inhaled and closed his eyes, not wanting to see his son watching or the unhidden desire in her eyes. It was all he could do to stay in control at the moment as it was. He held back a groan when she nuzzled against him. "Wha-whatever you want… just… not right now, Bulma. Didn't you say you have a meeting?"

Bulma pouted again. "Hmph. Yes… so I need to hurry up and get ready for it." He was unable to keep himself from responding to her when she wound her arms around his neck and planted a long, hot wet kiss on his mouth. "Since I'm working early today, maybe I'll play hooky this afternoon," she contemplated. "That would be nice." She gave Vegeta's backside a swat before turning around to see their son sitting there, looking intently at his newspaper. "Geta, be honest. Did hearing your mother talking about jumping your father last night bother you?"

Geta blushed. "It's, uhm, really none of my business, I guess," he mumbled. "I, uhm, it doesn't bother me that you two... I mean, you _are_ my parents and I'm not repulsed by, uhm, displays of affection, but…"

"But you don't need to know the details. I'm sorry… I should have been more discreet." She kissed his cheek again. "Try to rest some more. You look so tired." She headed for the door. "I'll catch you later." She winked at Vegeta and left.

There was silence in the kitchen again for a moment. "I… apologize for misjudging you Father, but what I said about concern for Mother stands." Geta rose from the table but kept his distance, politely giving his father, who had turned his back to him and was leaning heavily against the counter, some space. "Are you still going to train?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject again.

"Yes," Vegeta responded, also silently grateful for the change of subject. "Little temptress..." He turned to face his son. "You have used the room, haven't you? I mean, actual gravity training?"

"Not since I was three, but yes. You trained me in gravity a few times. My face became quite well acquainted with the floor, actually." The baby began to fuss and Geta picked him up. "I never made the same mistake twice, though."

"Hmph." Vegeta eyed the crying child. "Do you think you can get the brat to go to sleep?"

"I suppose so," Geta contemplated. His eyebrow rose. "Why?"

"Don't you want to come train also?" Vegeta asked.

Geta hadn't expected this. He'd expected to be watching his younger self while his father trained. "I... I suppose. But I told you, I'm weaker than a kitten right now." He shrugged helplessly.

"Leave that to me," Vegeta instructed, strolling over to the phone. "All of these stupid buttons," he grumbled. "I know your mother programmed one but don't remember which it is."

Geta frowned, confused. "Who are you calling, Father? I thought you wanted to train."

"We will." He glared at the list on the wall next to the phone, unwilling to admit that he couldn't read it. "One of these is Harpy's number..."

"Harpy? Oh, you're talking about Chi-Chi." Geta grinned. "Why do you want to talk to her?"

"I don't," he responded. "I want to see if her idiot mate is home." He paused. "Do you see the number on this list?" Vegeta shoved it in his son's hand.

Geta perused the list. "It's speed dial number three." He paused, watching his father. "Aren't you going to call?"

"I don't know how this confounded contraption works," he complained. "I've never used it before."

Geta peeked over his father's shoulder, unsure as to what was so difficult. "There's the speed dial button-"

"Just call the fool, would you?" Vegeta growled. "If he is home, get him on the phone and tell him I wish to spar."

"All right." He took the phone in his free hand and dialed. "Good morning, Gohan. Yes, this is Geta." He shot his father an amused look. "Just fine, thank you. Say, is Goku home? Could I speak with him, please? Thank you." He rolled his eyes. "You weren't kidding, Father. Chi-Chi was already on the poor kid about his studies- yes, hello, Goku." He paused. "Oh, much better today, thanks. Listen, Father asked me to see if you'd like to spar." Another pause. "When and where, Father?"

"Tell him to come now, and that... Never mind, I will speak to him." He took the phone from his son. "Kakarrot? Get your sorry ass over here. No, I don't have any, so bring yours. That's the reason I'm calling. Yes, for him. And I don't give a rat's ass what she has you doing. I'm out, and I know you have a stash. Just bring them over." He dropped the phone back onto its base, likely causing a loud clatter in Goku's ear.. "Moron."

"Why did you want Goku to come over?" Geta inquired, gently bouncing the now sleeping baby.

Vegeta snorted. "It's certainly not for the pleasure of his company," he retorted. "He has something I want."

Almost as if on cue, Goku appeared in the kitchen, startling the other two Saiyans. "Hey guys!"

"I _hate_ it when you do that, you idiot," Vegeta growled. "And quiet your trap before you wake up the brat."

Goku looked up at the sleeping baby on Geta's shoulder. "Awww... he's such a _cutie!_" he cooed, poking a finger at the baby.

Vegeta was quickly losing patience. "Don't touch my brat, third class. If you wake him up I'll pound your head up your ass. Did you bring the bag with you?"

"Yup. Right here." Goku wasn't fazed in the least by the prince's behavior. "You're certainly fond of the word 'ass' today, aren't you- hey!" he objected as Vegeta snatched the little bag he held from his hand.

"Go put the brat down and quit wasting time," Vegeta growled.

"I'll be right back," Geta responded, heading for the nursery. He laid the sleeping child in its crib and smiled down at him. He knocked on his parents' bedroom door and, receiving no response, entered. Water was running in the adjoining bathroom so he knocked on the door. "Mother?"

"Yes?" came the watery voice.

"I'm putting the baby in his crib, then we're going out to spar. Don't worry, I'll check on him frequently," he called through the door.

"Okay." The water turned off. "Have fun! I should be home for lunch or shortly after," Bulma responded.

"Okay." His father and Goku were no longer in the kitchen so he headed outside, not needing to feel out for their ki but instead following the sounds of punches being thrown and a body hitting a nearby tree with a grunt.

"Here he is, Vegeta," Goku commented, wiping the blood from his split lip as Vegeta hauled himself up off of the twisted, splintery remnants of the tree upon which he was laying. "I can't stay very long, and I'd like to see a little of what you're capable of, Geta."

"Fine," Vegeta growled, angry that his rival had landed such a hard hit on him not only so soon into their sparring session but also in front of his son. "Here. Eat this," he commanded, taking a senzu from the pouch and handing it to Geta.

Geta accepted the little legume and examined it. "Is this a senzu bean?" he inquired. "Mother told me about them."

Goku nodded. "Go ahead and eat it. They taste pretty nasty but they'll fix you up great." He laughed at the expression on the younger man's face as he chewed the bean.

"Yecch! You're not kidding about..." His eyes widened as he almost immediately began to feel the effects of the bean. "This is amazing! I could have used these a couple times when... Never mind. Did you still want to spar, Goku?" He stretched, letting out a small groan when something popped.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Goku looked worried. "You look so tired and hungry-_oof!_"

"I am, but I'll make it for a while." Geta leaned over to look down at his prone victim and smiled. "Shall we?" He offered Goku a hand up.

Vegeta snickered. _What a dumbass!_

"Yes, let's," Goku responded, ignoring Vegeta and accepting the outstretched hand Geta offered. Although it had been a cheap shot of sorts, he _had_ asked for it, and found the young man's ability to move _that_ quickly and undetectably impressive. During the half second it had taken him to utter the word 'hungry', Geta had managed to ring his bell pretty loudly, although it was more of an issue of bruised pride than body. "That was pretty impressive," Goku informed him. "I'm very curious to see your maximum power level. Do you know what it is? Do you always mask it? Why would you mask it at all while you're here?"

"Whoa, hold up with the twenty questions! Sorry, the masking's just force of habit. I never give the enemy any information about myself if I can help it, which includes my power level. And I don't wait for powering up too often, either." He sneered. "It may make me seem like a gutless coward or even honorless, but why stand there and stupidly watch the other guy get stronger so he can kick the garbage out of me when he's done?"

"Better question is, why stand around talking about doing something instead of actually doing it?" Vegeta complained. "Hurry up and kick his ass already, would you Boy?"

Geta shrugged uncomfortably. "I'll do the best with what I've got, but it isn't much at the moment," he confessed, hoping that his mother had been right about his father's attitude toward him and wouldn't think too poorly of a performance which he would probably see as a completely pathetic effort, if his childhood training sessions had been any indication. _I'm just ever so slightly malnourished and scrawny at the moment is all_, he thought bitterly.

"Aww, don't worry about it," Goku assured him. "Tell you what. No energy attacks this time. Hand-to-hand only today."

Geta frowned; he had no other alternative than to concede. "No kid gloves, got it?" He looked the older man in the eyes.

_Just as proud and stubborn as his dad_. "Okay, then," Goku agreed, taking a fighting stance.

The two men squared off and soon an ever quickening flurry of fists erupted. The two seemed evenly matched until Goku managed to get in a nice right hook, followed by a series of several kicks and punches, sending the younger man plummeting to the ground.

Geta picked himself up and batted the dirt from his clothes, growling angrily as he did so. "I told you not to take it easy on me!" he shouted, irritated at himself for letting a punch he should have easily blocked take him off guard. Until he learned Goku's fighting style and got his strength back, he would be mostly on the defensive. "I don't appreciate not being taken seriously, so don't patronize me." He wiped the blood oozing from his split lip away with the back of one hand.

"Hey, you're sick," Goku began in his overly cheerful voice. "You need some time to recover before you try to honest-to-goodness spar."

"Whatever." Geta crossed his arms in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Before we continue, did you want to power up, or shall I power down?"

Goku just stared at him blankly. "Power _down_?" Taken by surprise by the seemingly odd question, Goku just managed to avoid a roundhouse to his face by mere fractions of an inch. "What do you mean, should you power down? You haven't even powered up yet."

"You just missed your window of opportunity," Geta replied, effortlessly letting the dark-haired façade down in the blink of an eye to reveal spiky blonde hair and bright teal eyes. He heard his father's exclamation of surprise behind him.

Goku blinked. Not only had he not noticed Geta even attempt to power up, but his power level hadn't suddenly risen, either. "How...?"

Geta interrupted him with a kick to the gut followed by a rapid fire of fists and elbows that knocked Goku's body around as easily as shaking a rag doll. "You let your guard down, Goku, and you're letting a half starved demi who's been on the defensive and studying your moves get his licks in."

Taking this as the challenge it was, Goku immediately transformed and took on a fighting stance.

Geta smiled. "Now you're speaking my language, Mr. Son." He bowed respectfully to his opponent before taking on his own stance. Pleasantly surprised by the gesture, Goku returned it before they took to the air.

For a few minutes more, the two again appeared evenly matched as they continued to exchange blows. One good block by Goku shoved the two men apart.

Geta took in a deep breath and leaned over to place his hands on his thighs. _Man am I tired._ "Hey, as much as I hate to admit it, I've got to get some food in my belly before I pass out," he admitted sheepishly, backing off from the fight. "As for my lack of powering up just now, I'm_ always_ like this. It became a habit, second nature really. I had to be ready to react in a heartbeat should the androids happen attack at that moment." His feet touched the grass and he sat down, leaning against a tree. "That's one of the worst things about them. Their lack of discernable ki makes them almost impossible to detect unless you've managed to stay alive long enough to figure out their next move. Not an easy thing to do, and believe me when I say that there is no quarter given by these monsters to ready yourself." He paused, searching for the right analogy for his next words. "It's kind of like learning to fly. At first it's hard and takes a lot of effort and concentration, but before you know it you're blasting through the air without even thinking about it." He picked at the grass absently. "A guy my height, build and hairstyle was conspicuous enough, so I learned to hide the outside Super Saiyan appearance in order not to stand out any more than necessary."

Goku looked impressed. "Wow, I'll have to try that," he remarked. "That's a good idea."

Geta just shrugged. "Just common sense, really. The longer you stay this way the easier it'll become to maintain it and less effort means less energy." He noted his father standing away from them sullenly and hauled himself to his feet. "I promised Mother that I would check on little me every so often, and I'm famished." As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly. "Thanks for coming by, Goku. I'd like another round sometime."

"Hmph." _Stupid third-class idiot thinks he can show _me_ up._ Vegeta turned on his heel and strode into the GR to train.

"Do you think we hurt his feelings?" Goku asked, watching the GR door shut behind Vegeta.

Geta sighed. "Unfortunately, we probably did," he agreed. "He'll have to get over it somehow, because I have no intention of walking on eggshells around him when it comes to my power level. He of all people should be _pleased_ that his own son ascended, because obviously I got the ability to do so from him." He sighed again. "I think he's absolutely able to do it, and should have done it quite a while ago. He's just trying to do it the wrong way and for the wrong reasons. But how do I tell that to the man who is not only my father, but also happens to be royalty and therefore doesn't need anyone else's unsolicited advice? I'm just a boy to him. What do I know about how and why a Saiyan ascends, even though it happened five years ago for me?" He shook his head. "I never felt good enough when I was little and I still don't now."

Goku laid a hand on Geta's arm. "Aww, c'mon. You only just showed up here yesterday. Think about it- here all of a sudden the proud Prince of all Saiyans finds out that he has an adult son from the future who tells him that he's going to die at the hands of robots and seems to do better than he does at every thing he's struggled with that bothers him the most. Just give him some time. You're his son. He'll come around."

Geta almost gaped at the older man. He'd had no idea that Goku could be so astute. "Yeah... you're right."

"I'm also a dad myself. I know it's not easy to always live up to what my family expects, and everyone else too." He smiled. "And I know how you feel about not being good enough to please your dad. I doubt I'll ever be good enough, either, especially the more I can do. You can't let it bring you down like he brings himself down. You know how they say, misery loves company."

"Yeah," Geta responded again, wearily. He didn't have much else to say.

"Listen, I've got to get back home to help Chi-Chi, but we'll spar again soon, okay?" Goku smiled and lifted two fingers to his forehead.

"Wait!" Geta exclaimed. "I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you how difficult it is to learn that trick you used to get here. Maybe you can teach it to me next time I see you."

"Oh, it's simple as pie. I can show you right now if you like, but then I've really got to go."

* * *

Geta stroked the baby's downy little head and smiled down at the sleeping infant. "It'll be different for you, little one. I promise." Turning to the window, he could see random flashes of red-tinged light against the windows of the GR where his father was training. "I promise you both."

He brought his index and middle fingers together and lifted them up to his forehead, reappearing in the kitchen in an instant of time. His stomach growled noisily. "Yes, yes, I'm finally gonna eat! But I don't feel like fixing breakfast again," he muttered to himself, opening the fridge and peering inside with disappointment. There was practically _nothing_ to eat, just a few leftovers from a couple of previous meals. _Maybe I'll just fix sandwiches for now and see how it goes. It should hold me over until lunch._ He grabbed the bread and whatever else he could find that could work for a sandwich and went to work.

One ham and cheddar, two roast beef with Swiss, one turkey club, one tuna, and two grilled cheese sandwiches later- as well as the remainder of the previous day's Doritos, half a jar of pickle spears and a couple cans of root beer- he hauled himself up from the kitchen table and groaned, stretching. "Man, did that hit the spot!" He checked on the baby one more time before heading downstairs to the den to watch some television. Although he wouldn't have minded training with Vegeta, he figured that his father wasn't in the best frame of mind for his company at the moment. Feeling himself growing drowsy after his nice big snack as he lay on the couch channel surfing, he turned the television off and took the opportunity to catch a short nap.

* * *

Bulma smiled as she drove home. It was a cheerful, sunshiny day, and she was going home to spend the rest of it with the three Vegetas in her life. She giggled at the thought of three Vegetas. Just not too long ago, she'd had her hands full with keeping the original in check. Now, hopefully she'd have her hands full of the original and...

"Down, girl!" she chastised herself, not at all meaning it. "Don't get all worked up over that right now." She pulled up in front of the house and encapsulated the car before heading inside.

_It's quiet in the house. Too quiet. Oh, Bulma, they're probably out in the GR training._ She paused. _What was that?_ She headed for the source of the sound she'd heard. _It came from in here, I think..._ She peeked into the den. It was empty.

Shrugging, Bulma turned to go get herself and the baby changed for lunch when she heard the sound again. It was a growl; she had no doubt of that. She had heard Vegeta growl like that before when he'd been having an unpleasant dream. He never told her about his dreams and she didn't push about it. She wasn't sure he was aware that she knew how often he had them.

She walked forward quietly, not wanting to wake him if he didn't seem too agitated. Just like a cornered animal, even in his dreams Vegeta could get violent when provoked. Touching him could unconsciously be interpreted as part of the dream. Once, after he'd almost unconsciously taken her head off when she'd attempted to wake him while he was having one of those dreams, she decided it would be best not to touch him if she didn't want to lose any appendages. She never thought he'd ever deliberately hurt her, but didn't want it to happen accidentally either.

Peering around the arm of the couch, she discovered that it was not the father of her son but her son himself who was doing the growling. Her brows furrowed. _It's probably those horrible androids he's dreaming about_, she mused. His teeth were clenched, sharp fangs bared.

"No... no... it's me you want... Leave them out of this..."

Now she was torn. On the one hand, she could try to wake him now before he really became agitated, or she could back off and let him sleep through it. She wondered if he would have the same bad reaction as Vegeta did. Considering Geta's not insignificant size, Bulma determined it to be a compelling reason to let him sleep.

"Leave them alone!"

Bulma felt a twinge of pain deep within at the obvious suffering reflected in her son's voice. _He must be dreaming about one of us being hurt or attacked. Poor guy. I guess I will wake him up._ She approached the couch and leaned over, reaching out to touch his arm. "Geta?" she ventured, her voice just a little more than a whisper. She jumped back in surprise, however, when he shuddered and began to twitch.

"No!" His voice had risen to almost a shout. "Not my son!"

Bulma felt goose bumps rise over her body when he let out an agonized cry, his face contorted in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes. _His _son?_Oh, Kami! Did he have a son who got hurt, or even..._

"Please... she's no threat to you..." His head shook back and forth against the seat cushion, his fists clenched. "Stop! Don't hurt... no... _no!_" He tensed up on the couch, mouth open and eyes squeezed tightly shut, a look of complete and utter agony on his face.

Bulma went completely white as a second scream even worse than the first one tore from Geta's throat. It was blood curding and terrible, and sounded to her as if he'd been stabbed in the chest. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he shook with silent sobs. His hand slid off of the couch wearily, dropping the remote he'd been clutching hard enough to destroy onto the floor. "Anya... oh, Anya..." His sobbing was audible now. "Curse you... blood thirsty machines... _Damn you!_"

Bulma fled the room as a golden burst of ki erupted out of her son's body to envelop him. As much as she didn't want to leave her son alone, she was _not_ going to stick around long enough to become part of the devastation that the random ki he was putting out could cause. Sobbing, she exited the house through the kitchen and raced for the GR, and the only person who could help.

* * *

Vegeta opened one eye. He'd been deep in meditation when he felt a sudden spike of ki which had just as quickly fallen again. He recognized it as his son's and frowned when it happened a second time. "What the hell is going on?" He left the GR and headed for the house, shooting for it like a rocket when it rose to an alarmingly dangerous level and remained that way.

"Vegeta!" Bulma was running toward him, crying. She threw herself into his arms when he reached her. "Oh Vegeta, you have to come quickly! It's Geta..."

He didn't wait for an explanation as he scooped her up and flew into the house and down the hallway to the den. He looked on in shocked surprise at his son writhing on the couch in his sleep and glowing like a cinder. He was just about to speak when Bulma beat him to it.

"He was dreaming," she began, her face buried in Vegeta's shoulder. "He said something about leaving some people alone, and his son." She looked up at him. "Vegeta, he was screaming so terribly. He cursed some machines... I think he may have lost a child or somebody else he cared about to the androids."

He set her down gently. "Go get the infant," he instructed. "Leave the house."

"But, Vegeta-"

"Now!" he shouted, feeling a little guilty when she jumped at the intensity of his voice. "Do as I say, Woman!" He advanced toward the couch, defenses ready, as Bulma fled down the hallway. He knew better than to try to rouse his son by touching him. The young man was in a bad enough state as it was, and would react negatively to contact. He swallowed his pride to do what he knew needed to be done. :Vegeta, my son… wake up,: he spoke gently, directly into Geta's mind. The ki surrounding him blazed stronger for a moment before receding slightly. :That's it… wake now.: He sighed in relief as the ki dissipated completely, leaving his son lying trembling on the couch. :Geta, come now… open your eyes, Son.:

Geta sat upright on the couch. "No! No!" he shouted, opening his eyes. He looked around, suddenly realizing where he was and what had actually happened. "Oh… Kami," he whispered, resting his face in his hands. "Why must I see this over and over again in my dreams?"

"Son?" Vegeta's voice had the same tone he'd used when Bulma had needed comforting.

Geta jumped, startled. "Father?" He hurriedly wiped his tearstained face with the back of one hand and turned away, embarrassed. "I, uhm…"

"Dreamed about something you'd rather forget?"

The room was silent for a moment. "Yes," he whispered. "And no." When Vegeta said nothing, he continued. "Yes, because I had to watch the only people left that I cared about die. But no, I cannot forget about them because… because they were my wife and son."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. _So Bulma was right._ "I see," he said quietly.

Geta's shoulders drooped in despair. "I… I never thought anything could hurt as badly as when you and Mother and the others died." He gulped in a breath of air, fighting back tears. "I was wrong." Unable to hold back any longer, he dropped his face into his hands, shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently.

Vegeta was uncomfortable at witnessing his son's grief but somehow knew that while he did not need an audience to his pain, he did not want to be left alone again. He walked up to the couch and placed his hand awkwardly on Geta's shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry, Father," Geta managed, wiping his face with the back of his arm. "I-"

"No. Don't be," Vegeta interrupted. He was not one for tears but if anyone could relate to a situation where tears would not be shameful, it was him. "I too lost everyone I had ever known in the blink of an eye when that bastard Frieza destroyed planet Vegeta," he murmured. "I cannot think any less of you for your anguish now."

Geta finally lifted his head, straightening up somewhat. "Thank you, Father."

"Vegeta?" He looked over to see Bulma standing in the doorway, holding the baby in one arm and a glass of water in the other hand.

Vegeta left his son's side and went over to her. "Woman, I thought I told you…" He sighed at the sight of her teary-eyed face and took the water.

"Is he all right?" she asked silently. Vegeta shrugged in response, but nodded. "Can I… if I can do anything to help…" Her eyes pleaded with him.

"Mother?" They both turned to look at their son, who was sitting up on the couch. "Come in, please. You both should hear about this. I'd rather you hear about it before everyone else does." He sighed despondently.

"Can I get you anything first?" Bulma offered gently. "A cool wash cloth, perhaps?"

He managed a grateful smile. "You always think of everything, Mother."

"Hmph." Vegeta crossed his arms. "Yes, and forgets nothing."

"Smart ass," she commented, slapping his backside playfully on her way out.

They were both silent until she returned a minute later with the wash cloth. "Goku just popped over here, having felt your ki rise," she explained, handing Geta the cloth. "I told him you'd had a bad dream, and everything was okay. He said he hopes you feel better soon."

"Thank you," Geta murmured, accepting the wash cloth from her and wiping his face. As he did so, Bulma maneuvered Vegeta into sitting down on the loveseat nearby, then proceeded to perch herself on his lap and snuggle close against his shoulder, ignoring the disgruntled look he gave her. She cradled VJ in her arms, bouncing him gently.

Geta stared straight ahead, and sighed. "We met when we both showed up at the same android resistance gathering. I knew the _instant_ I saw her that she was the one, the one I was going to marry." He took a sip of water. "She was just breathtaking. Porcelain skin, strawberry blonde hair, sea green eyes a man would be more than happy to drown in…" His face had softened and he was gazing absently at nothing, a dreamy expression on his face. "She had a body to die for. _Fab_ulous legs. Sometimes I wanted to just, I dunno, sink my teeth into her, hear her scream my name…" He blushed, realizing his description was getting just a little too intimate, and coughed. "Heh… I think I'd better quit while I'm ahead."

Oddly enough- or so he thought- his father was sitting there looking quite smug and his mother had dropped her gaze and was playing with a lock of her hair, twisting it with her fingers, the tiniest of smiles on her lips and a faint blush coloring her cheeks. He couldn't determine a reason for their odd behavior, but pushed the thought to the back of his mind for the moment.

"But all of that paled next to her inner beauty," he continued. "She was the sweetest, gentlest little thing I'd ever met. I'd try to talk to her, ask her to dinner, for a walk, whatever. But she'd act standoffish around me, like she didn't want anything to do with me for some odd reason I couldn't fathom. I mean, I got rugged good looks from my father and baby blues from my mother, heck, I even bathed regularly," he grinned at them before continuing, "so it's not like I was repellent or anything. But I'm nothing if not persistent.

"She got particularly exasperated one time when I asked her out and said, 'Okay, fine. If I go to dinner with you will you quit hassling me?' I pretended to think about it and said, 'Well, maybe… not.' She rolled her eyes and started blushing, but finally agreed to go out with me. I could've jumped for joy. I must've done something right, because six months later I made her my wife." The smile returned.

"That's so _sweet_. How old were you?" Bulma wanted to know.

"Let's see… she was eight months younger than me. I was seventeen when I met her, eighteen when we got married. She'd just turned eighteen."

"That's so young," Bulma exclaimed. "But you were obviously smitten with her."

"Yeah…" The stupid grin returned. "She was something else." He paused, momentarily lost in thought. "The way things were, we couldn't technically get married. No suit, no dress, no flowers, no civil ceremony. We pledged our lives to each other instead, for better or for worse, forsaking all others. I made her my wife here, in my heart." Geta placed his hand over his heart and gave his parents a shaky little smile. "I know that isn't exactly right, but seeing as I was a prime target of the androids at the moment it was the best we could do. That alone could have scared her away but it didn't. She stuck with me despite the danger she knew it would bring to her.

"I'm sure she would have loved a big wedding with lots of guests and all of the extras, but she never once complained about anything, Kami bless her, not even when I didn't have a ring for her. That was the _one _thing I really wished I could have given her, but she told me that not having a ring wouldn't make our union any less important and special to her, and that I could have wrapped a piece of string around her finger and she would have been content." He stared down at the cloth in his hands and shook his head sadly. "She was really something special to me, something to be cherished. I vowed to protect her with my life, and I... I failed."

The room was quiet for a moment before Vegeta spoke. "Well, according to what you told us happened in your time, I was one of the first to go. Your mother didn't survive the androids either, and you went through the childhood from hell. That makes me a failure before this whole thing even happens. What's more, I couldn't do anything to even _try_ to help save our race. What does that make me? I know, Son. I've beaten myself up about it since I was only six."

Geta opened his mouth to contradict his father and stopped, sitting back against the sofa again. He inhaled deeply and lifted his gaze to meet Vegeta's. "I know you're right, Father. I just... I lost everyone I ever loved, and Anya's and our son's deaths cut the deepest of them all." He forced a weak smile. "That's why I came here. If I had a chance, just a tiny one, to make things different, I was determined to do it."

He took another drink of water, ready to change the subject. "When Anya told me she was pregnant, I was both ecstatic and terrified at the same time. She would've been the perfect bait if the androids had gotten hold of her, or the baby for that matter."

"How old were you when the baby was born?" Bulma interjected excitedly. "How about Anya? What name did you pick?"

"Hold on, slow down!" Geta gave his mother a time-out sign with his hands. She giggled. "In the order you asked, I was nineteen, Anya eighteen. We continued on with tradition and named him Vegeta." He grinned wearily. "Now, there are four of us to differentiate. Yikes!"

Bulma chuckled. "Why do you think you ended up with a nickname? Your father detests being called anything less than 'His Royal Highness Prince Vegeta', don't you Highness?"

Vegeta smirked at her. "You're finally learning, Woman."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Get over yourself." Bulma paused, contemplating something. "Hold on a minute here. If Anya had only just turned eighteen when you married and she was still eighteen when your son was born…" She trailed off, grinning, as Geta's face turned bright pink.

Vegeta laughed. "Didn't waste any time, did you Boy?"

"Uhm, no…" He gave them a helpless little smile. "Uhm, anyway, it was around that time that things started getting bad. I mean, they'd always been bad, but this was worse than anything I ever imagined we could go through. The androids weren't just harassing and randomly killing people; it was an extermination. I knew what they were trying to do. They were trying to flush Anya and me out of hiding. I did fight them, but it just wasn't enough and I was the only one left who could even attempt to fight them. I could hold my own for a little while against one of them, but both? I'd be mincemeat in five, maybe ten minutes if they decided to play with me first."

He wrung the cloth in his hands, visibly struggling to finish what he was about to say. "The only thing I could do was turn tail and run, try to keep one step ahead of them while I was still alive to do it," he admitted, obviously embarrassed. "I_ cursed_ myself for being a coward, but at the same time, if I could keep my wife and son alive and unharmed for just one more day, then hey, call me a coward. I was at least doing some good." His head hung down in shame.

"Couldn't you have defeated them if you'd become a Super Saiyan by then?" Vegeta suggested.

Geta lifted his head, his eyes quickly flicking up as he looked at his father in anger. "I _was_ a Super Saiyan!" he retorted bitterly. "And I was no rookie, either. I'd ascended when I was almost fifteen years old, and up until that point I had Gohan training me. Don't think for one instant that he went easy on me, either. Under his tutelage, I came so close so many times, but it just wouldn't happen."

"What did?" Bulma asked softly.

Geta looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "I was out scouting for the androids one afternoon. I came home but no one was there, and I couldn't pick up anyone's ki.

"I went outside and searched for Kami knows how long when finally I spotted something. It was a shirt belonging to the friend of mine I told you about earlier. We were best friends, really, like this." He held up the index and middle fingers of one hand, pressing them closely together for emphasis. "He lived with us because he didn't have anyone else left, either." A smile crept across his face. "I swear, to this day I still have no idea _how_ you weren't completely gray haired by the time you were forty, Mother." The smile became a grin. "We were wicked children, I realize that now. We didn't mean to be, but just some of the things that super-powered children can do would freak out any parent, I'd wager."

"Wait a minute!" Bulma interjected. "Super-powered child_ren_? You're saying that the guys were right?"

"I'm saying, yes, his father was one of the group of friends turned fighters who lost their lives to the androids." Geta finished his water and leaned over to put the glass on the end table nearby. "I cannot, however, reveal who that is, because I've changed enough as it is by coming here and telling you what I already have."

His parents shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Anyway," Geta continued, "I saw the shirt and flew down to take a look. That's when I found him, Gohan, and... and you, Mother. Dead, obviously killed by the androids." He let his head hang low again, not bothering to fight back his tears any longer.

"Oh Geta, how terrible," Bulma soothed.

Geta sniffed, wiping his face with the cloth again. "I-I just... lost it, I guess you could say. The three of you were the only family I had left. I dropped to my knees in the mud and started screaming in anguish and fury, in abject hatred of the machines which had done this thing. The next thing I knew, it was as if my mind, my insides were on fire, fighting to gain release... and then they did."

"That's when you ascended?" Vegeta asked, astonished.

"Yes," Geta responded. "I didn't know what was happening to me, just that I had all of this pain welling up inside me, and let it loose. It felt good even though it hurt like nothing else I'd ever experienced, and that only served to fuel my rage." He shrugged. "I realized what had happened to me, and at some level I felt triumphant, but the rest of me grieved for my loss and held me in fear because I didn't know how to control this fantastic power yet. After a few months, I learned to manipulate and control it, all the while hiding from those cursed machines." He stared at the floor, having nothing left to say. "And that's how it happened."

"Even with all of that power, it still wasn't enough?" Vegeta didn't seem to want to let go of the almightiness of the legendary Super Saiyan yet.

Geta shook his head. "No, unfortunately not. Kami knows I wish it would have been. If it was, I wouldn't have lost my wife and son the way I did. Gohan wouldn't have died the way he did. Neither would _you_ have, Father." He smiled sadly. "But I guess that's a story for another day."

"But, Anya and little Vegeta... what happened to them?" Bulma asked tearfully, already afraid of the answer.

Geta sat quietly for a moment before responding. "As much as I wished it otherwise, I couldn't be with my wife and son on a constant basis. I had to keep track of where the androids were and what they were doing in order to keep that one step ahead of them. Also, if they did kill or capture me, or if she was in a situation where if she stayed it could mean being caught, she could take our son and run. I even made her swear that she would not come back for me should anything happen to me.

"My greatest fear became reality one day when I returned home to find the place a shambles and Anya and Vegeta missing. I knew then that I should have listened to my gut and responded to a nagging little feeling I'd had. I could have fled with them during the cover of night, but instead I ended up leading the androids right to my family." His voice had reduced itself to little more than a whisper.

"The androids made no effort whatsoever to hide the fact that they'd been there, where they were headed and that they meant business. I found a long lock of my wife's hair that they'd clearly torn right from her head, and one of my son's little socks with it. There was even blood splattered on the wall." He stopped, his head in his hands and breathing heavily.

"Sweetie," Bulma began quietly, her shaky voice breaking the silence, "you don't need to tell us the rest of this if-"

"No," Geta broke in. "I need to get this out." The room was quiet for another long moment.

"I almost broke down right then and there. In my rage, I flew out of the house and followed their tracks back to this house, of all places. The bastards were rubbing it in my face that I once lived here, that I watched you die here-" his eyes flicked over to his father- "that this was a place of fond memories for me during the most impressionable years of my life.

"They were in the yard near where the GR is now. One of them was holding back Anya, and the other had our son. Anya's head was bleeding where they'd torn out her hair, and she had cuts and bruises all over her. She'd obviously put up a good fight when they were discovered. The baby was screaming, and Anya was trying to get to him. They were just laughing at her.

"When they saw me, they told me to give myself up, or they'd kill Anya and Vegeta. I had no choice. There was no doubt in my mind that they'd follow through with their threat." He stared down at the floor, a sad, dull-eyed expression on his face. "They beat the hell out of me, mercilessly. In all honesty I have no idea how I survived. I must have zoned out during it because I remember not even feeling the blows anymore, just hearing Anya screaming. When I came out of it, I was groggy and in the worst pain I had never even imagined, and they were standing there with smug expressions on their faces.

"Anya was sobbing hysterically and started screaming again when she realized that I was still alive. The female android was holding her and hit her hard, and told her to shut up. I managed to get out a plea to leave them alone, that they weren't a threat." He drew in a breath, trying to compose himself enough to finish.

"As a side note, Vegeta had just recently started talking. You would think that his first word would be 'Mama', but it wasn't. It was 'Dada'. Kami, my heart would melt every time he'd call to me, his little arms reaching out to me. I'd scoop him up, and those arms would go around my neck. He'd rest his head on my shoulder and let out a contented sigh, his little tail waving happily. Kami, how I _loved_ that boy!" Tears began to roll down his cheeks and splash onto the floor.

Unable to stand it any longer, Bulma got up from Vegeta's lap and handed him their baby. She sat down on the sofa next to her grief stricken son and wrapped her arms around him consolingly, her own tears wetting his shoulder.

Geta wiped at his face with the back of his hand. His voice wavered as he continued the story. "When Vegeta wouldn't stop crying, they got even angrier. The male android had him, and shouted at him to shut up, and shook him hard. He started crying out for me. He couldn't understand why I wasn't helping him and his mother. It just shattered my heart, Mother, to hear the pain in his voice.

"I tried to yell at the android to leave my son alone. He only sneered at me, and when Vegeta didn't stop crying, he put his hands around my boy's neck and..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. "I can still hear his cries stop suddenly, the sickening sound of... of his neck breaking..." He covered his face with his hands again. "Then, they started to rough up my wife... I pleaded with them to let her go, to do what they wanted to with me, but not to hurt my wife. I can't get her screams of agony out of my head. Then they stopped... her eyes were staring my way, but weren't seeing. It started to rain... they stood over me and laughed, such a cruel, terrible sound. And all I could do was lay there in the mud and sob like a baby. All I wanted was to die, but they _wanted _me to live. Death was too kind, and they wanted to be able to harass me later, to completely break me." He sobbed into his hands, loud, heart wrenching cries of inconsolable grief.

Bulma cried along with him, holding him close. He threw his arms around her, his face buried in her shoulder, and clung to her like a lifeline. "Oh, Geta..."

Vegeta felt extremely uncomfortable as he watched them cling to each other and cry. Not only did the display of emotions put him on edge, but the young man's story had disturbed him more than he imagined it could. He sighed mentally. He'd already swallowed his pride once today when it came to showing concern for his son. It was obvious how painful it had been for his son to relate such a horrific event in his life, and how much it would mean to Geta to have his father's unbidden support. Silently, Vegeta rose from the loveseat and walked over behind his son, patting his shoulder awkwardly as he had before.

Sitting up from his mother's embrace, Geta stood to face his father. He had calmed somewhat at his father's touch and did not resist the urge to thank him for his support by throwing his arms around him, startling him.

Despite Geta's current state of mind, Vegeta had not expected this from his son. Hesitantly, he patted the distraught young man on the back.

Geta eventually quieted down and let go of his father, collapsing back onto the couch. Exhausted both mentally and physically, he fell asleep in almost no time at all, his worried parents looking on.

"Oh, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, turning to him with large, tear-filled eyes, those eyes which Vegeta had earlier discovered turned him soft in the head, completely unable to resist. "How terrible! I feel so... so helpless. I wish I knew what to do for him." She moved over beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close.

Vegeta gave up attempting to keep his pride in check and drew her tighter with his free arm against himself, stroking her back gently. "I would say give him some space so he can recover. My impression of him is that he doesn't want to be alone, but wait until he comes to you," he directed, releasing her and guiding her from the room. "I know that I don't appreciate attempts to be coddled and pitied when I have dreams about times I'd rather forget."

Bulma eyed him warily. "You sure didn't complain about being coddled the night Natsue said we could make love again. I was four months pregnant at the time and you were complaining about my belly starting to get in the way, remember?"

Vegeta scowled. "That's different," he objected. "I meant being pawed all over with obvious attempts of pity when it is clear I would rather be left alone."

"Yes, all right, Dearest." Bulma grinned as the scowl got bigger. "Why don't you put VJ down while I get a blanket to cover Geta? That's not coddling, it's being considerate."

"Why do you always want me to put the brat down?" Vegeta complained. "I'm not his nanny."

"No, you're not," Bulma agreed, "but neither am I. Besides, look at him. It would have taken me ten minutes of walking around bouncing him and humming lullabies to get him to go to sleep."

Vegeta looked down at the infant he was holding. Sure enough, the baby had fallen fast asleep in his father's arms, his little tail curled securely around one forearm. "Oh."

"That baby just loves you, Veggie," she responded tenderly, ignoring the look he gave her. "Babies tend to prefer men's voices and they feel secure. Add the fact that you sired him, and it's not that difficult to explain."

"Hmph. Babies don't like me and I don't like them. Smelly, whiny brats."

Bulma smiled knowingly. "You like this one though, don't you?" she purred softly in his ear. "While I carried him, I'd feel him move inside of me, and get all hot and bothered thinking about just how he got there, and how enjoyable it was putting him there." She leaned in even closer, her lips almost touching his earlobe. "You did enjoy making our son, didn't you?" She ran her tongue along the bottom edge of his earlobe, making him shudder. "Go put the baby down, Prince Vegeta," she breathed huskily, "while I get a blanket for Geta." She detached herself from him and headed for the staircase. "Will you be coming with me today, lover?"

Vegeta stared at her backside as she ascended the stairs. "Count on it, Woman," he growled softly, following her up.

* * *

"Mmmm..." Bulma sighed contentedly, curling her body closer against his. Getting Vegeta all worked up and then making him wait definitely had its advantages. She stretched from head to toe, yawning sleepily. "Kami, you completely wore me out, Vegeta."

Vegeta preened visibly. "You expected anything less from the Prince of Saiyans, Woman?"

Bulma giggled. "You know you're setting quite a high standard for yourself, Veggie."

He growled at the continual usage of the nickname but pulled her off of the mattress beside him to rest her along the length of his body, his arms curled around her securely. "You don't need to worry about that, I assure you." He let out a huff of breath very close to an aborted sneeze, resumed growling, and unwrapped one arm from around her to smooth down her hair and tuck it as best as he could beneath his chin, muttering something about a 'friggin' blue puffball' as he did so.

Bulma giggled again. "Okay, all right. I'll make an appointment with my stylist. My perm is growing out, anyway."

"Is your stylist able to return your hair to how it was before you did this to it?" He pulled back a curl with his finger watching it spring back when he let it go.

She nodded. "I could get it straightened again."

"Good. Straighten it," Vegeta commanded, trying to ignore the one disobedient curl that insisted upon poking out and tickling his nose. It was just short enough that it refused to stay tucked down with the rest of her hair. "It is far less hideous straight."

Bulma shoved his arm off and propped herself up on his chest, scowling darkly at him. "Less hideous? I thought you said I was exotic," she demanded, hitting him on the chest in irritation.

He continued to growl and slid her back onto the mattress. She had him there. "Damn harpy," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

She noted his cheeks had gone a little pink and grinned, irritation suddenly gone. "Ahhhh... I see. You're saying you think my hair is prettier straight, right?"

"Hmph." He turned his face away as the blush deepened. There was no way he was going to tell her that her hair was striking, or that she was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever acquainted. It would surely go to her head. Besides, only weak males prattled on in such a ridiculous manner, hoping to gain favor from the females who dominated them. No woman would ever dominate him!

She reached over and turned his face toward hers. "That's sweet, Vegeta. Thank you."

Vegeta's scowl deepened. "I'm not sweet-" His objection was silenced when she kissed him. His irritation at how easily she was able to manipulate him this way, how effortlessly she made him into one of the weak males he so despised, gradually dissipated under her gentle caresses and kisses.

"Mmm... that was nice," Bulma purred when they parted, resting back down against his chest. She sighed. "What now?"

Vegeta's lips curled up. "Ready when you are," he responded suggestively, running a hand along her side and making her shiver.

Bulma giggled again. "That's a nice idea, but I meant what happens now with Geta? I already felt so horrible about everything that he's been through, and now this," she said sadly. "He obviously loved his wife and son a great deal."

Vegeta realized he'd been stroking her hair and sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "But it does explain a lot about his behavior."

She nodded. "I feel so badly for him."

He too nodded in acknowledgement. "But as I told you earlier, just give him some space. He doesn't want to be pitied. He said so in the den right after he arrived here, remember?"

They lay in silence for a moment until Bulma sat up. "I'll go see about lunch," she murmured, giving him one more quick kiss before scooting out of the bed and going into the bathroom.

"Make enough for Geta," Vegeta called after her. "Kakarrot gave him a senzu bean, so he's probably hungry now."

"Will do," she called back.

_What now, indeed._ So much had happened in his life in the past two days, so many things thrown at him. Returning to Earth to find his son had been born, Frieza showing up, his son showing up as an adult and defeating Frieza, Kakarrot returning, the revelations that Geta had told them of their impending deaths. The only thing that Vegeta knew for sure was that he had to train harder than he ever had before. There was no way he was going to die the way Geta had shown him, nor would he allow the baby sleeping just down the hall to experience what Geta had.

He got out of the bed and pulled on a pair of shorts before exiting the bedroom. Quietly he crept into the sleeping child's room and peered down into the crib. It had all only become real to him the day prior, when he'd actually seen the child for the first time. This was his offspring, his heir. He really was a father. He wasn't ready for this. Yet, there was something different, strange even, that he felt when he looked at the child, even more so the times he'd held the boy. He couldn't explain it.

Again as he had when Vegeta had taken a good look at his son for the first time, the baby opened its eyes and saw his father watching over him. When Vegeta started in surprise and moved away, his little face fell and he began to wail.

Vegeta looked at the nursery door then back at his son, hesitating before going back to the child and picking him up. /Hush, Brat,/ he murmured gruffly. /Stop crying. I picked you up, didn't I?/ The baby continued to cry until he adjusted him in the crook of one arm and held him against his chest. /You're just like your mother,/ he accused the child, who now rested contentedly in his father's arm and immediately coiled his tail around his wrist. /Always crying until you get what you want./

VJ suddenly smiled broadly at his father.

Vegeta snorted. Anyone else would say it was just gas in the boy's tummy, but he knew better. "Little manipulator," he murmured softly, running a hand over the child's hair.

It was soft and silky, just like his mother's.

* * *

"Hi, Geta!"

Geta turned his eyes skyward to see Goku approaching, closely followed by Gohan. "Hey Goku, Gohan. How's it going?"

"We're both doing fine. How are you?" Goku responded as they landed next to him. He tilted his head a little to the side. "Are you okay?"

Geta suppressed a sigh. There was no purpose in hiding the truth about Anya and Vegeta any longer. "Yes, as good as can be expected, anyway. I... I had a dream yesterday about something bad from my past."

"Yes, I heard that." Goku nodded.

"What did you dream about, Geta?" Gohan asked. "Was it about the androids?"

Geta managed a weak smile. "Yes, in part. You see, I..." He bit his lip. "They beat me up badly before... before killing my wife and son, right in front of me, right where they first killed my father," he managed.

Goku's heart felt heavy for the young man whose bright blue eyes were unsuccessfully blinking back tears. "I'm very sorry for your loss," he told Geta sincerely.

Geta nodded, his face a portrait of anguish. "Thanks," he whispered from between trembling lips. He sniffled and mopped at his face with the back of his hand. "F-father's training right now. I think he might actually enjoy some company," he managed. "Excuse me. I'm going to check on VJ." He paused, averting his eyes away from the other two Saiyans. "In answer to Gohan's question, it was 'Da'."

"What?" Goku asked in confusion.

"My son liked to call me 'Da', or 'Dada'," Geta clarified. It was obvious he was doing all he could to hold back his tears.

"Geta..." Gohan watched as the grieving man turned away before placing two fingers to his forehead and disappearing. "Dad, that's just awful! If I knew it was something that bad, I wouldn't have asked about his dream."

"Me either, Son." Goku sighed and stared at the house. "Poor guy. I wish there was something I could say or do to help him feel better."

Almost as if on cue, the GR's door opened and Vegeta came out, a frown on his face. "Kakarrot, what are you doing here? Where did my son go?" He had invited Geta to spar with him, but had felt the young man's ki abruptly leave the vicinity shortly after Goku and Gohan had arrived.

"Geta said he was going to check on VJ," Goku responded in a quiet voice.

"But, I thought he wanted to spar- oh..." Suddenly the saddened expressions on Goku and Gohan's faces made sense. "You asked him about his dream yesterday, didn't you?"

Goku nodded. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay, that's all. I never meant to hurt his feelings," he lamented.

Vegeta sighed. He wanted to chew the younger man out for being such an idiotic sissy boy, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to do it. "You didn't. This is something that he must learn to deal with. I lost my father along with our entire race, but still I have no idea what to say to him," he admitted. "I imagine losing one's mate and offspring of whom one is quite fond must be infinitely more difficult to come to terms with."

Goku looked Vegeta squarely in the eyes and frowned. How could the man be so nonchalant about his own son's loss? Couldn't he even try to show a little emotion for once? "Try imagining Bulma and your baby killed right in front of you, and tell me how easily you would come to terms with it."

Vegeta's fists balled up tightly. "Go home, Kakarrot," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I have no intention of merely sparring with you if you stay here."

"Sure, Vegeta. No problem. Oh, and give Bulma my love, would you?" Goku responded emotionlessly, further testing the prince's patience. "Come on, Gohan. We'll go home and help your mother with the housework. She'll appreciate that." Before either of the other Saiyans could respond, he had placed a hand upon his son's shoulder and two fingers to his forehead, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Damn you, Kakarrot!" Vegeta growled angrily. He powered up and let loose a Galic Gun into the sky with a shout, watching it grow smaller and smaller as it sped through the atmosphere. It wasn't what Goku had said that bothered him. It was what he had _meant_ by it- that Vegeta didn't show enough care and concern for either Geta or Bulma, and the insinuation that he would be unaffected by her death.

The fact that Goku had just proven the falsehood of the accusation to him was even more infuriating. He knew it would hurt him to lose his mate and, yes, even the child he had only known for a matter of days, especially if they were brutally taken from him the way Geta's family had been.

He jumped in startlement when Geta appeared beside him. "Damn it, Boy! What the hell?"

"Sorry," Geta responded a little sheepishly. "I guess I sort of forgot to tell you that Goku taught me how to do it." He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You okay?"

_He must have felt that Galic Gun._ "Yes, fine. That idiot Kakarrot can be completely infuriating sometimes."

"He didn't do anything wrong, Father," Geta said softly. "And there's nothing wrong with caring about other people."

A low growl issued from his father. Obviously Geta meant that Goku hadn't meant to upset him, but he knew Goku hadn't been out of line by what he'd said to him personally either, and that bothered him. "Don't you start too."

_Goku must have had a conversation with Father too, one that he didn't like. I'm sure he doesn't want to tell me about it._ "I won't." Geta stared away into the distance. "I..."

As much as Vegeta hated to admit it, Goku was right. "What is it, Son?"

Geta never remembered his father speaking in such a mild tone of voice. "I don't even have a picture of either of them," he whispered. "But I see them every day, in my mind. In my dreams. I feel them in my heart. At least the androids couldn't take that away from me."

Vegeta felt a little uncomfortable, not knowing how he should respond to such a statement. "That's true," he began slowly. "Son, I know it is not the same as your loss, but I am the only one left who knows anything about our people. So, if you ever have any questions..."

Geta looked down to his father, who had a solemn expression on his face, and realized how much it must have taken for him to offer such personal and private- not to mention painful- information. He smiled. "Thank you, Father. I think I'll take you up on that sometime."

Vegeta grunted his acknowledgement. "Good." A slow smirk slid onto his face. "You looked a little confused when we were talking in the den yesterday about your mate," he ventured. "When you were describing her, remember?"

"Confused? About what- Oh, yeah. Right..." A blush spread its way across the younger man's cheeks. "Why would I feel such a compulsion? I never wanted to hurt Anya. I loved her to a fault!"

Vegeta shrugged. "It's nothing you should feel ashamed of. It's in your nature."

Geta's brow furrowed. "In my nature?"

Vegeta indicated the scar Bulma had left when she'd bitten him. "Your mother has one just like it. Hadn't you noticed?"

"You mean..." Geta had seen his mother's scar many times but had always attributed it to an accident in the lab or something along those lines. Any scar his father had he never questioned since his father had many of them from all of the fights and battles he'd been in. "You deliberately scarred each other?"

Vegeta nodded. "It is a Saiyan custom. Saiyans bite their mates and leave a scar in order to indicate that they are mated. No man would dare touch a female belonging to another male. It would mean his rightful death at the hands of the female's mate."

"I see," Geta said slowly, digesting what his father had just revealed to him. "So my instincts were telling me that I should mark Anya as my mate?"

Vegeta nodded again. "Yes. Although, if she knew nothing of Saiyan culture she may not have been very receptive."

"I don't know how she would have reacted," Geta contemplated. "Maybe if I had been able to explain to her what I was feeling and why, she might have allowed it. As it was, I never told her. I didn't want to freak her out." He gave Vegeta a lopsided smile. "I would think that biting someone hard enough to leave a scar would hurt. How did Mother react when you did it?" His eyebrow rose when his father actually blushed slightly.

"She..." Vegeta sighed. "I had thought about marking her before it happened, but _she_ actually bit _me_ first," he admitted. "It was done in her passion, only she had attempted to quiet herself so as not to alarm the old people, not actually bite me." He found himself grinning when his son went from slightly embarrassed to openly laughing at his description of Bulma's parents. "But when done during mating, as was customary amongst the Saiyan race, it is actually quite pleasurable, rather than painful."

Geta contemplated his words before speaking; the questions he had rushing through his brain were becoming personal. "So, basically when two Saiyans decided they wanted to be mates, they marked each other with a bite?"

"Something like that," Vegeta agreed. It was close enough to how it worked that he would understand. "More accurately, the two are _compelled_ to mark each other during their mating. It is a lasting thing. Some mates even developed a bond with each other, allowing for a sense of awareness and communication between them, although that was rare."

"Oh. Do you and Mother have such a bond?" It occurred to him that this must be the case, since his mother had spoken of the 'empty' feeling she got when his father had died.

Vegeta frowned as he contemplated the question. Even though he would never admit to it, he _did_ care about Bulma, but he didn't believe that such a thing could be possible between the two of them. "How to explain this? I don't know the answer to your question, Son. Your mother is not a Saiyan and she does not have the abilities that we do. She can hear me speak telepathically to her but she had to be taught how to respond. She cannot do it on her own. She is unable to sense me the way I am able to search for and detect her ki. She cannot sense what I am experiencing without witnessing it."

"Like emotions?" Geta clarified. "If you were angry or upset, or pleased about something?" he added in an effort to keep his father from cringing at the thought that he just might have an emotional attachment to his mother.

Vegeta didn't seem to notice. "Yes, unless I projected that feeling to her," he agreed. "So if there was a bond between us, most likely it would be one-sided, as she would be unable to reciprocate. She may say she feels like she has a bond with me, but what she is feeling is a human emotion, this 'love' as she calls it."

Geta wanted to ask his father if he loved his mother in return but refrained. Vegeta was being very forthcoming and he didn't want to ruin his chances at asking more questions later. "I see."

Vegeta easily picked up on his son's hesitation and scowled. "I am not human, Boy. Unlike you, I am not plagued by these ridiculous emotions-"

"Love is far from a ridiculous emotion, Father," Geta interrupted tersely. "I loved my wife and son deeply. In a different way, I loved Mother, Gram and Gramps, and my friends. Even as a three-year-old, I loved you, despite the times when you were harsh and mean. Love made me strong, made me endure the heartache of all that I'd lost long enough to be able to come here and warn all of you because I didn't want you all to die." He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "Love isn't ridiculous, stupid, weak, or wrong. It's the strongest thing in the world, the thing that can either bind us together or tear us apart. I only hope that someday you will understand what I mean." His last statement came out in a calm, quiet tone. So much for not annoying his father.

"Hmph." Vegeta crossed his arms stubbornly. "Such foolishness, this love. Caring about others only gets a man hurt. That person he cares about will be used against him. You have experienced that firsthand. How can you feel otherwise?"

"Loving Anya and our son was the greatest experience of my life," Geta responded. "They made my life worthwhile, gave me a reason to keep fighting instead of just giving up. Their deaths were the most painful thing I have ever experienced, but they fueled my need to be strong enough to make something better of this world, of my life. I would have given my life for them in a heartbeat. That made me strong so I would be able to keep them safe." He sighed sadly. "I... I failed, but now I'm determined to make things right this time for the people I love, just as you have."

"I am training to fight the androids for my own purposes, not for anyone else's benefit," Vegeta contradicted him rather snidely.

"I see," Geta said quietly. "So you're saying if someone attempted to harm Mother or VJ, you wouldn't intervene?"

Vegeta gave his son a scathing look; he was trapped no matter what response he gave, and so he fell back on his only choice- anger. "You are testing my patience, Boy. Be careful of where you tread with me."

_At the very least, maybe that'll make him think a little about it._ "Of course, Father." He nodded to Vegeta and took a fighting stance. "The baby is still asleep, so shall we?"

"About time," Vegeta growled, taking to the air. "You're not going to cheat and do that teleportation trick Kakarrot showed you, are you?"

"Hmmm, maybe," Geta teased, glad that the tension between them was lessening. "But it wouldn't be cheating if _you_ could do it, too." He paused for dramatic effect. "Right?"

Vegeta eyed his son skeptically. "What are you saying, Boy?"

"I'm saying that I'd like to show you how to do it, if you'd like to know," Geta told him, a slow smirk gracing his features.

Vegeta snorted. "Hmph." _If that fool Kakarrot could learn it, how hard can it be?_ "Sure, why not?" he agreed with a shrug.

"Cool. All you have to do is determine where you are going by training your ki on..."

* * *

Bulma set her purse and keys on the counter and peered through the window of the kitchen door at her mate and adult son, who were discussing something in depth. She had no idea what it was from the gestures they were making, but it didn't appear to have anything to do with sparring, especially when Geta cracked a huge smile. She shrugged and turned away from the window only to gasp in surprise when he suddenly appeared beside her.

"Hello Mother," Geta greeted her with a smile and a wave. He grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator. "Bye!" Without another word, he placed two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.

Bulma blinked and shook her head. How had he gotten from outside to in the kitchen in the blink of an eye? "Okay... I'm assuming that must have been that instant transmission thing that Goku learned in space," she murmured to herself.

"Indeed," a deep voice murmured back in her ear, making her gasp in surprise a second time. Without warning, a pair of hands reached around her from behind her and grabbed her breasts.

Bulma yelped and jumped. "Vegeta!" Embarrassed, she slapped his hands away. "What if Geta comes back and sees you groping me?"

"Aww, what's the matter?" Vegeta asked in a silky smooth voice. "You didn't seem to mind yesterday morning when it was _your_ idea to grope _me_ in front of him." He wrapped his arms around her and dropped hot kisses down her neck.

"I wa... I wasn't... groping... oh, dear Kami..." she moaned as he got in a really good nibble.

Vegeta's chuckle rumbled in her ear as she jerked reflexively in his arms. "Not for lack of trying, Woman." His hands resumed their explorations. "Let's go upstairs," he whispered suggestively.

"Bu... but what about..."

"Geta is using the GR and the infant is sleeping," Vegeta purred, nipping at her earlobe and making her suck in her breath. "Come on, I'll show you a few of my tricks."

Neither of them noticed Geta's pleased smile of satisfaction, his glance having landed on his parents through the kitchen window when his father hadn't returned.

The GR beckoned. Dinner could wait.

* * *

"Bulma dear!" Mrs. Briefs called as she and Dr. Briefs entered the house. "We're home!"

Geta, who had been perusing the contents of the refrigerator when his grandparents came in, froze behind the open refrigerator door. _Why didn't I sense them coming in?_ he panicked. _Gram and Gramps are going to freak out when they see me!_ "Uhm, she's in the lab," he told them in as normal of a tone of voice as possible.

Mrs. Briefs could see what she assumed to be the top of Vegeta's hair poking up from behind the open refrigerator door and giggled. "Thank you, Vegeta," she said cheerfully. "You poor man, you must be hungry! Were you training hard today?"

Geta suppressed a sigh. _Might as well get this over with._ He stood up straight and shut the door.

Mrs. Briefs blinked, her surprise matching that of her husband's, who let out a startled little noise from behind her. Her eyes suddenly grew wide, and her hand rose up to cover her mouth as she stood staring in shock at the man towering above her. He had bright blue eyes. "Oh... oh, my. You... you're not..."

"You scared them, Boy."

All three turned to see Vegeta holding the kitchen door open, the baby in one arm.

"Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs looked from his daughter's boyfriend (as he viewed him) to the tall man who looked very much like him, then back to Vegeta. "What's going on here?" he asked weakly.

"Bulma will meet us in the den," Vegeta informed the two elder Briefs after a short pause. "We have much to discuss."

"Yes, I see," the doctor agreed, grasping his wife's hand and following Vegeta from the kitchen. "Come along, Bunny."

Although he couldn't blame them for being afraid of him, Geta couldn't help but feel disappointed as he brought up the rear of the small family procession. But he loved his grandparents dearly and had no doubt that things would be fine once they discovered who he was.

Vegeta stood in the back of the den with VJ by himself while Geta sat in the recliner, his grandparents opting to take the couch. They eyed the tall young man warily but neither made an attempt to say anything.

VJ wriggled in his father's grasp and reached up, trying to touch his face. When it became apparent that his efforts were in vain, he began to fuss.

"What's the matter with you, Brat?" Vegeta grumbled, shaking his head when the boy's whimpers stopped and he cooed happily instead. "You're an odd child," he noted dryly as VJ grasped his shirt and hauled himself upwards to cling to his father's burly bicep like a little koala bear clinging to a tree.

"No, just one of exquisite taste," Geta piped up, looking smugly at his father. His eyebrow arched when he saw the position his younger self had cheerfully adopted. "You know you're going to hear it when a certain someone sees that."

Vegeta shrugged and waved Geta's statement off, the motion of his arm making the child clinging to it coo with glee. "Bah, he's fine. She'll get over it." He couldn't contain a grin at the boy's exuberance.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs exchanged a 'don't ask me' look. From this mysterious young man to Vegeta playing with the baby- and not seeming to mind too much- they were stumped.

"Here I am!" Bulma sang cheerfully as she joined them in the den going over to the couch to kiss her parents. "How was your... trip…" She paused when she saw Vegeta and hurried over to him. "What the _hell_ are you doing to my baby?" she screeched. "If you didn't have him right now I'd slap you silly!"

"Look Ma! No hands," Vegeta teased, breaking into a huge grin when her small hands clenched into fists and her face darkened. He raised his arm up again and VJ burbled excitedly, his wide blue eyes shining with delight.

"Give him to me, you... you negligent _child abuser_," Bulma accused irritably.

"Negligent child abuser, hmph." Vegeta snorted in response; the woman truly had no concept of negligence or abuse if she thought his behavior warranted either accusation. "Do you want to go see your mother, Vegeta?" Vegeta asked the boy. He held his arm out to Bulma so she could take him.

Bulma's attempts to remove her son from his father's arm were met by screams of protest and even tears from the child, who was unabashedly making it clear that he had no intention of going to his mother. "Damn it, Vegeta!" Bulma growled, embarrassed.

"No foul language in front of the brat, remember?" Vegeta was enjoying this immensely. He had taken to picking up his son when he cried and Bulma wasn't present simply because it was a more tolerable option than listening to him scream. It had quickly become evident that Bulma was right- the boy _was_ fond of him for some reason Vegeta couldn't explain. As a result, there were times when the child didn't always want to go to his mother, which irritated her and amused his father.

This was one of those times.

Bulma sighed. "At least come sit with me," she requested, figuring that if Vegeta was sitting with the baby, the chances of VJ falling or otherwise getting hurt would be reduced.

"Oh, I'm fine right here, Woman," Vegeta informed her in a mock pleasant tone of voice that failed to cover up his amusement.

"Fine," she pouted, stuffing the bottle and a burping cloth she held into his hand. "Feed VJ."

Vegeta growled something about baby puke and smelly diapers but repositioned his energetic son in his arms and stuck the bottle's nipple into the boy's mouth.

"So..." Dr. Briefs began. What he had just witnessed had been odd to say the least, and they still had the issue of this man who looked a lot like a taller version of Vegeta to address.

Bulma sat down on the loveseat. "Daddy, Mom, this is Geta."

They looked from Geta then at Bulma. "But, Dear..." Mrs. Briefs didn't really know what to say.

"My time machine _works,_ Daddy. It needs a lot of modifications, but it actually works," Bulma announced excitedly. "Geta is from twenty years in the future. He's VJ, all grown up."

They looked at each other in disbelief, then back at Geta. "You're my darling little grandson?" Mrs. Briefs squeaked.

Geta let a smile escape. "Yes, Gram. Only I'm not so little anymore." He rose from his chair and looked at them expectantly, his hands clasped behind his back.

Bulma found herself grateful that two weeks of training with Vegeta and satisfying a good, healthy appetite had helped her son to fill out nicely. He wasn't 100 percent yet, but he was a far cry from the skinny, sickly young man who had originally shown up. "Nope, quite the opposite," she added with a smile.

Her parents rose from the sofa. "Oh! Oh my," Mrs. Briefs whispered. She approached her grandson, a smile forming on her face. "What a handsome young man you are, just like your father."

Geta blushed a little. "Thanks, Gram," he murmured, surprised to find himself feeling a little shy.

Dr. Briefs nodded in agreement. "I knew that Bulma was working on a time machine, so I should have realized who you were. Goodness, but he favors you, Vegeta." He turned to his daughter. "So it actually works, hmm? How did you figure out what was wrong with it?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Geta took a look at my blueprints and-"

"Oh, never mind about that now!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed excitedly. "Just look at my handsome grandson! I can't believe it!" She gave the startled young man a hug.

Geta chuckled and gently returned the hug. He had been looking forward to doing it for quite a while. Grandmas always gave the _best_ hugs. He let her go and turned to his grandfather. "Hey, Gramps."

Dr. Briefs too stepped up and received a handshake from his adult grandson, not quite as ready to get a hug from a man who was still a stranger to him as his excitable wife was. "This surely is a wonderful surprise," he exclaimed when they'd all settled down. "When did you get here, Geta?"

"Right before you and Gram left for vacation. In fact, she came very close to catching me in the kitchen," Geta admitted sheepishly.

"She did? When did that happen?" Bulma asked curiously.

"Well..."

* * *

Mrs. Briefs dabbed at her eyes with her fifth tissue. Her grandson's story was simply unbelievable, such a tragedy. "Oh, you poor, dear boy," she sniffled. "How terrible. But don't you worry. Your father and Goku will take care of those horrible androids." She smiled at Vegeta. "I have complete faith that now that you know, you'll be ready, Dear."

Vegeta's chin lifted. "Of course," he assured her, his pride allowing for nothing less. "I have already increased my training. No machine will be the cause of my death."

Dr. Briefs eyed his daughter. "Well, I suppose we should work on upgrades to the GR, then," he suggested.

"Trust me, I'm already being badgered about it," Bulma informed him, shooting an irritated look her mate's way.

"Well Dear," Mrs. Briefs spoke up, staving off the ensuing argument, "is there something I can do for you?" She looked to her grandson expectantly.

"Well... I don't want to be a bother, but would you mind baking a batch of cookies?" Geta asked bashfully. "You used to make these wonderful chocolate chunk and butterscotch chip cookies that I absolutely loved when I was little."

"They had walnuts in them too, didn't they?" Mrs. Briefs laughed and clasped her hands together when he nodded. "I know just the cookies you're talking about," she told him. "Of course I can. What a nice request, and not a burden in the least." She got up from her seat. "What a sweet, delightful boy you are. Come along," she cooed, dragging her surprised grandson from the room. "We'll go make them right now. You three stay put, and we'll bring some in when they're ready."

Bulma smiled as she watched them go. "That went well," she noted.

"He seems to be an agreeable young man," Dr. Briefs added. "Of course, there aren't many people that your mother doesn't like."

Bulma sighed. "He's..." She paused, trying to think of how to phrase her thoughts. "He's been through a lot, but the longer he's been here, the more he seems to be relaxing, little by little." She frowned sadly. "I wish I knew what to do for him."

"Just be there for him, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs advised. "That's the best any of us can do."

Suddenly a thought struck Vegeta. "How long ago did he say his mate and brat were killed?"

"I thought he said it's been not quite seven months," Dr. Briefs said thoughtfully. "Poor lad. I can't imagine how I would have been able to deal with that, and being so young too."

Bulma nodded in agreement, but Vegeta's mind was elsewhere.

_Just be there for him... That's the best any of us can do..._

Vegeta hid his smirk.

_Not so, old man. Why didn't I think of this sooner?_

* * *

Geta closed his eyes and smiled as he bit into the freshly baked cookie his grandmother handed to him. "Oh, Gram... it's _so_ good," he almost moaned. "Just like I remember them."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "That's wonderful, Dear. I'm so happy I can do something to make a nice young man like you happy." She contemplated this. "I'm sure your father would like to have some. He has a huge sweet tooth, you know," she told him confidentially, her giggle returning.

Geta paused and sighed. "So that's why she stopped making them," he murmured.

"What was that?" Mrs. Briefs asked, not having heard what he'd said.

"That's got to be it. I'll bet Father liked them." Geta turned to his concerned grandmother. "I remember both you and Mother making these cookies when I was very little," he told her softly. "Mother used to make them especially for Father, but after the androids arrived she never made them again."

Mrs. Briefs got teary-eyed. "Do you think that was because they reminded her of your father?" she asked sadly.

Geta nodded. "I'll bet that was it, all right. I remember now. She would be making cookies, and had to practically slap his hands away, or threaten to put him out on the couch if he didn't stop eating them all." He gave her a sad little smile.

"Oh, you poor boy." Mrs. Briefs grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "Well, we'll just have to make sure that there'll always be plenty of cookies for everyone, if you get my meaning."

Geta smiled at his grandmother affectionately. She had always known just what to say. "I do, Gram. Thank you."

Mrs. Briefs washed her hands and handed him another cookie. "Good. No more of this sniffling then, right? This is a happy time for us." The oven timer sounded, and she pulled the cookie covered sheets from the oven. "That's all of them."

"Already?" Geta asked, disappointed. The entire cookie-baking process hadn't taken long, since Mrs. Briefs had two large ovens.

She laughed again when he practically inhaled the cookie. "I can always make more, Dear. I have a plate of them here for your father and another for us." She finished removing the cookies from the sheets and picked up the two plates. "Shall we?"

He took one of the plates and held the kitchen door open for her. "Let's."

"Cookie time," Mrs. Briefs sang as they re-entered the den. "Here you are, Vegeta. I have a plate of cookies just for you!"

Vegeta accepted the offering without hesitation, as the smells coming from the kitchen were absolutely wonderful. "They look good," he grunted.

"Hmph. Not even a 'thank you' from the man," Bulma grumbled sourly.

"Oh, seeing him enjoying them is enough for me," Mrs. Briefs decided, pleased as she watched the Saiyan prince devouring what was already his third cookie. She figured that was his way of saying that he liked them.

The baby in Vegeta's lap let out a loud noise of grievance and began to squirm.

"What's your problem, hmm?" Vegeta demanded. He picked up a crumb from the plate with the tip of one finger and offered it to his son. "Is this what you want? Some cookie?"

"Vegeta, no! He's not old enough for that," Bulma objected nervously. "You'll make him sick, or he could choke!"

Vegeta snorted. "It's just a crumb, Bulma," he objected dryly. "It wouldn't hurt him even if he wasn't Saiyan. If he was back on Vegeta, we'd be feeding him meat by now." He stuck the crumb in his son's mouth. "See? The brat likes it. Leave him be, unless you want to be the one to listen to his shrieking."

Bulma frowned. "And I suppose you were eating seven-course meals by his age, weren't you?" she asked sarcastically. "You probably even went out hunting the poor animals too." She crossed her arms, her chin tilted up haughtily and a pout on her lips.

And what luscious lips they were.

Vegeta eyed his blue-haired mate. With her indignant little nose stuck up so high in the air, the ideal situation to rile her up and get a good roll in the hay out of her clearly presented itself to him. "Woman, you have been irritable since you entered this room, and there is no reason for it, save one," he informed her. "If you require a good screwing, just say so." He smiled smugly when her mouth dropped open and she turned bright pink.

"You... you _pig!_" Bulma hollered, embarrassed beyond belief.

"That's not what you said last night," he countered slyly. "Besides, I wasn't the one making high-pitched squealing noises. That was you."

Bulma growled and sat back down on the couch. "Stupid ass. Thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. The greatest thing since sliced bread, in fact," she muttered darkly. "As if I need him to..."

The Briefs watched, spellbound by what was going on, as their daughter continued to mutter and Vegeta got up from the beanbag he'd been sitting on. He handed VJ to Geta and, without pause, grabbed Bulma about the waist.

"Wha- what the hell are you doing, you crazy ape?" Bulma exclaimed as Vegeta slung her over his shoulder. "Put me down this instant!"

"You want a good screwing right here in front of everyone?" Vegeta asked, amused when she gasped and began struggling to get out of his grasp. "I knew you were into kinky stuff, but I didn't figure you to be _that_ big of an exhibitionist."

"I'll give you a good _something_ all right, you jerk!" Bulma shouted, her face reddening. "In fact, when I'm done with you-"

"Promises, promises," Vegeta interrupted, swatting her backside lightly and making her jump with a little exclamation of 'oh!'. The den door closed behind them.

The room was quiet for a moment before Mrs. Briefs' startled voice broke the silence. "Oh my."

"I think that about sums it up," her husband agreed. "Were they always like this, Geta?"

"Hmm?" Geta was busily working his way through the rest of his father's cookies and looked up. "Oh. No, this is pretty tame, actually," he admitted. "Hey, want some more cookie, big guy?" He broke off a piece, nibbled off a nut, and handed it to the baby in his lap who'd been staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "Here you go." He laughed when the child promptly dropped it and gave him another crumb the way Vegeta had.

"Oh." The doctor thought about this. "Did they pretty much get along?"

Geta looked a little crestfallen. "Actually..." He sighed. "They usually didn't. They fought a lot. I already told them I don't want them behaving that way around VJ. It was traumatic for a little kid to watch that. But don't get me wrong, they're a good match," he added hastily. "They're both just very proud people." He sighed again, looking a little sad as he did so. "Anyway. Maybe we should start dinner, Gram."

"What would you like me to cook, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs inquired.

"Oh, I can do it," Geta told her. "You made the cookies, I'll get dinner."

"You cook, Geta?" Dr. Briefs asked in surprise.

"Sure!" He handed VJ to the doctor and headed for the door. "You two just relax. I'll take care of it."

Mrs. Briefs waited until he was gone and gave her husband a sad sigh. "That's so sad, don't you think, Dear? They're both such sweet young people. Why would they fight, especially in front of poor Geta?"

"I don't know, Bunny," Dr. Briefs responded quietly. "I wish I knew."

* * *

Vegeta crept into Bulma's lab and flipped on the lights. She and her father were both at their offices and the blonde woman was shopping. He glanced at his son, who was taking a nap in the crib next to the desk. As long as the boy didn't wake up and Geta kept training, he should be able to accomplish what he'd come to do relatively easily.

He opened the cabinet he'd seen her place the object he came for in; sure enough, there it sat rather conspicuously on the shelf. "Tsk, tsk, silly female. You never know what kind of unscrupulous individuals such as myself might sneak in here and take things you haven't locked up," he murmured, picking the object up, "especially since you know I've been wanting what this can find for quite a while now." He turned the small device on and found himself surprised at the results.

There was only one blip on the screen, at the very spot where he was standing.

"They're all right here?" he murmured. "She must have gathered them already." He leaned down; the signal grew stronger, and he smirked at the fact that she hadn't thought to hide the seven mystical orbs in a different location than the radar which had so easily located them. "Such a very silly female you are." He didn't see either the balls themselves or a capsule on any of the shelves or in any of the boxes in the cabinet. Doubtful that the woman would want to make the effort to hide the dragonballs _behind_ the heavy metal cabinet, the only direction left to go was down. This made sense anyway, since she'd obviously tweaked the radar to indicate not just the general vicinity of a dragonball but also whether or not the user was getting closer or moving away, and the signal had grown stronger the lower in the cabinet he'd looked.

On a whim, Vegeta removed the bottom shelf. There, in a hole in the floor, he found the box he was looking for and removed it. "That was too easy," he crowed in satisfaction as he took out the capsule inside and put it into his pocket. He paused; perhaps it would be best to double-check the contents before leaving. He pushed the capsule's little plunger and let it fall to the floor.

What happened next was not quite what he had expected.

"Son of a bitch!" Vegeta exclaimed, gaping in surprise at the pile of several hundred other capsules which had appeared on the floor beside his feet. Despite himself, his initial irritation at the situation- including the fact that he couldn't read the Western Standard labels on the capsules- quickly dissolved as he realized that perhaps his mate was not quite as silly of a female as he'd thought. No doubt she had another radar unit hidden elsewhere, so even if the capsule containing the dragonballs had been stolen, by the time the perpetrator figured out which of these hundreds of capsules were the seven he wanted, she'd easily be able to track them down. He couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration at his woman's craftiness.

Good thing there were still a few more hours until dinner.

* * *

In Vegeta's pocket was a single capsule containing all seven dragonballs, which had taken him until just before she'd returned for dinner to find. He'd stashed the empty capsules back in the box where he'd found them the day before. Bulma would never be the wiser, that is, until he summoned the dragon.

No one was in any of the rooms he had to pass through to leave. All the better. "I'm going to train, Woman, so don't interrupt me," Vegeta called out as he left the house.

"Attitude." Bulma sat down on the couch next to Geta, VJ in her lap. "But so what else is new, I guess. Your father is very serious about his training."

"Yeah, I gathered that," Geta responded dryly. "So, what did you want to watch?"

* * *

Vegeta landed in the desert and pulled the capsule out of his pocket. _Too bad that instant transmission thing requires a ki to lock onto. It would have been faster getting here using it than flying. I'm really starting to like it, though. Not that I'll ever tell that idiot Kakarrot that._ He brushed the thought off in favor of one about the wish he was about to make.

He opened his hand and looked at the capsule on his palm. "Bulma's going to be pissed when she realizes that I made a wish without even telling her. Selfish, selfish Vegeta, hogging the dragonballs all for myself. Too bad." He grinned and popped the capsule open. "Won't they all be surprised."

He opened the bag that appeared and arranged the dragonballs on the ground. _Here goes._ He stood back from them and raised his face to the sky. "Eternal Dragon, grant my wish!" he shouted.

The sky became dark and lightning struck. A wicked smile spread across Vegeta's face as Shenlon appeared before him.

"What is your wish?" the fearsome dragon demanded.

* * *

"Mother, come see this! A storm's moving in, and fast!" Geta exclaimed, fascinated. "It was sunny not even ten seconds ago. I've never seen a storm break so quickly!"

Bulma came into the kitchen, the baby in her arms. "A storm?"

"Yeah, the sky went dark just like that-" Geta snapped his fingers. "Did you see that lightning?"

Bulma looked out the window, then her face grew as dark as the sky outside. "That's no storm," she informed her son. "The dragon has just been summoned."

"Dragon?" Geta repeated. "You mean someone found and used the dragonballs?"

"Oh, I'll wager your father didn't have to look too hard to find them, considering I gathered them up and hid them away in case we needed them later," Bulma said peevishly, "and he saw where I put the dragon radar." She scowled. Not even the satisfaction of knowing what Vegeta had gone through to find the correct capsules was enough to relieve her irritation at him. "He's probably out there wishing for immortality. He tried to get the ones on Namek so he could."

"He wants immortality?" Geta asked. "Well, I guess I can't blame him. If someone told me that a couple of androids were going to show up and kill me in three years I just might do the same thing."

* * *

Vegeta watched as the seven orbs rose up into the sky before shooting away into different directions. It would be another year before he could be selfish. _Oh, well. Such is life. If I die again, I die again. And what's one more year without my tail?_

He looked around, and not seeing anyone, began searching for an unfamiliar ki. He felt one- no, two- behind a large piece of rock at the base of a nearby cliff and flew over to investigate.

* * *

She gasped, opening her eyes. She was about to scream when she realized that she was not at Capsule Corp any longer. Her hands flew up to her head. No lacerations, no blood. Her jaw wasn't broken. She could see clearly; her eye wasn't puffy and swollen. Her arm and leg weren't broken, all her ribs were intact. "What... h-how?" she whispered, examining herself. There was not even a scratch or a bruise that she could see. The oddest thing about her was that all of her clothes had disappeared. Not that it mattered; they'd been torn almost to shreds anyway.

A loud cry startled her from her thoughts. "Mama! Da!" The owner of the little voice began to sob.

Her eyes grew wide. Was that truly... "My baby!" she screamed, racing over to the crying little boy a few yards away and scooping him up into her arms. "Oh, my sweet baby," she sobbed, holding him tightly against her body and rocking on her knees. She looked him over. Nothing wrong, the same as herself. And his neck... his little neck was fine. "Thank Kami." She clutched the baby back against her chest again. Her eyes opened wide. What about-

"Woman, come on out," a deep voice called, interrupting her thoughts.

She scooted back against the rock, clutching her son close. _Just keep calm, girl... You can handle this._

"Woman, I would not wish you and the boy back from death only to harm you," the voice continued. "Why waste a chance to get my tail back?" _If that doesn't catch her interest, nothing will._

"Tail?" She turned and slowly peered over the top of the rock. She gasped, wide-eyed, at who she saw advancing toward her hiding place. "That's impossible," she whispered. But, there was absolutely no disputing it; he couldn't be anyone else. "Vegeta?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes." He stopped and crossed his arms. "Anya."

She gaped at him. "How?" she asked simply. "I... they killed my son and he's right here with me. And the last thing I remember is-"

"Trust me, I know exactly how you feel," Vegeta interrupted, trying to keep his voice softer so as not to frighten the young woman further. "There is no need to think about that now. You need only know that I have wished you back to life with the dragonballs. You are in what you consider to be the past."

"Dragonballs," she whispered. "So they _are_ real."

"You're alive, aren't you? Come out here and I'll take you home with me. There's someone there who I'm sure would very much like to see you again."

"Geta!" she gasped. "He's alive? He made it!"

"Yes."

She gave him a million-zeni smile. "Yes, take me please!" She paused. "There's just one little problem." At his inquisitive raise of one eyebrow, she continued. "For some reason, I'm butt naked." She let out a nervous little laugh.

Vegeta blinked. "Oh." It wasn't exactly what he thought she'd say. "Well, you can wear this, I guess." He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, then turned around and held it behind himself. "I won't turn until you say."

She drew in a deep inhalation, then darted out from behind the rock and took the shirt. "Stay put, Vegeta. Mama needs both hands right now," she murmured. She sat the energetic little boy down, hoping he would stay still for just a moment. "Thank you," she told Vegeta gratefully, buttoning it up around herself. "This helps a lot."

"Sure." He paused, realizing that since he wasn't the tallest man around that the shirt probably didn't leave much to the imagination. "You need some pants, don't you?"

"Well, uhm, I hate to inconvenience you, but..." Anya winced. She really didn't want to embarrass this proud man who had already gone to great lengths for her. He had done something so selfless that she was sure no one would ever have thought he'd do, based on what she'd been told by Geta about his volatile behavior.

Suppressing a sigh, he removed his pants and held them out as well, leaving him standing in his boxers and a tank tee. "Here."

She could see his ears and the back of his neck flush red for a moment as she slipped on the much too big slacks. "Thanks again. I'm sure this isn't exactly what you expected when you- Vegeta! Stop! Mama told you to stay put!" she yelped as her young son toddled off, his little tail straight out behind him. She tried to run after him, but the oversized clothes she wore prevented it and she tripped. "Oof!"

Without looking back, Vegeta took a few strides to scoop up the boy. " I am assuming that it's safe now?"

"Yes. Thank you again. You naughty boy. You know what 'stay put' means, don't you?" Anya's eyebrow rose at her son.

The little boy sulked for a moment, then uttered something that Vegeta couldn't make out.

"Yes, Mama loves you, too. That's why I didn't want you to get hurt." She sighed, holding up her oversized pants with both hands, then took a good look at her father-in-law for the first time. "Kami... Geta's practically a copy of you, except for his coloring," she whispered wide eyed. She bit her lip. "You said he's at Capsule Corp?" Her eyes began to tear up when he nodded. "Let's go, please!"

"Take hold of my arm," he directed, shifting the boy in his grasp. Raising an eyebrow at her puzzled expression, he lifted his free hand to touch his forehead.

She jumped in surprise when she saw that they were suddenly in a room with metal walls. "You teleported us? Geta never mentioned you doing that," she exclaimed. She grinned. "That's really cool."

"I just learned how to do it," Vegeta admitted. "Maybe in your time I didn't know how." He shrugged. "You have probably been told about the gravity room where I trained. This is it. It's shielded, so no one will be able to sense your ki." His eyebrow rose again, a scheming look on his face. He handed her the baby. "I will go find something for you and the boy to wear. There is a bathroom in the back that you can use to freshen up while I'm gone." He turned to leave.

"Vegeta?" she called after him timidly.

"Hm?" He turned to face her again.

"Why? Why did you do this for me and Vegeta?"

He shrugged again. "Hmph. Who knows? Something useful to do, I guess."

She couldn't help but smile as he left the chamber. _He's so different than what I expected, yet some of what Geta described is unmistakably there._ "Well, baby boy, let's get cleaned up."

* * *

Vegeta came back to the house, expecting the Woman's lips to be flapping at him full force. He wasn't disappointed.

"Training, my ass!" Bulma yelled, entering the kitchen as he'd come in through the back door. "I'm not an idiot... Vegeta, why the hell are you wearing only-"

He placed a hand over her mouth. :Shh! I need some of your clothes,: he told her, removing his hand.

:Oh, Kami. And you were getting after Geta earlier about-:

He couldn't help but grin. It wasn't difficult to see how she could have thought that. :Not for _me_, you foolish woman. For the wish I made just now. She's about your size, but the brat is older than ours is.: He nodded at their son in her arms.

:For your wish?: She gave him an odd look, then gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in excitement. :You actually brought them back? Anya and their baby?: The emotion shining from her eyes almost made him feel uncomfortable. :Vegeta, that is the kindest, most compassionate thing I have ever seen you do. I'm proud of you.: She wrapped her free arm around him, cuddling close.

:Knock it off, Woman,: Vegeta complained, shifting a little in a half-hearted attempt to free himself. :I could have wished for a lot of things. Maybe I should-:

:Maybe you should keep on being a good boy so I'll have reason to reward you more often.: She looked up at him suggestively, drawing little circles on his chest with her finger, pleased when he tensed up under her touch. She smiled and straightened up. :So where is she? Is she all right?:

:Yeah, yeah. Just fine. She's using the bathroom in the GR right now. She's probably about your size or a little smaller. They're both pretty skinny. You need to get her and the brat something to wear while I get dressed. Stay in the room and I'll transport us back to the GR,: Vegeta instructed.

Bulma turned back to him. "You really are a sweetie," she murmured.

"I am not a sweetie! Warriors aren't-"

Bulma cut him off with a kiss. "Let's hurry up and do this," she whispered covertly.

"You two are so quiet. Is everything okay in there?" Geta called from the den.

"Just fine. I've mentally whipped your father back into shape," she responded, winking at Vegeta, who snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Quit fooling around and let's just do this," he grumbled, taking hold of her and transporting them to their bedroom.

* * *

"Ready when you are." Bulma put their son in his crib and picked up a bag of clothes she'd selected.

Wordlessly, Vegeta again took hold of his mate and transported them into the GR.

"See if she's ready," Vegeta suggested. "I'm not going back there if she's not clothed."

"This is so exciting!" Bulma beamed like the sun and headed back toward the small bathroom. "Hello? Anya? Don't worry, it's Bulma," she called ahead of herself. "I have some clothes for you and your little one to wear."

The door creaked open and a blonde haired young woman wrapped in a towel emerged. "Bulma?" She smiled. "I always did wish that I could have met you, and now I am."

Bulma returned the smile, then drew her daughter-in-law up in a hug. "I'm so glad. You're every inch the beauty Geta described, too."

Anya blushed. "Oh, he always did exaggerate that."

"As a man in love is often known to do," Bulma replied, watching the girl blush even more deeply. "Don't sell yourself short, dear. You're nothing to turn up one's nose at. Anyway, take a look in this bag- oh! Aren't you just adorable! Yes, you are!" Bulma cooed, noticing and scooping up the naked little boy hiding behind his mother's legs.

"We say 'thank you', when someone is nice, Vegeta," Anya instructed gently.

Vegeta only looked up at his grandmother with huge blue eyes. "Hi," the little voice finally said shyly.

Bulma let out a little squeal of delight. "Oh, I could just eat you up, you're so sweet!" she exclaimed, giggling. "Not that I want my little boy to grow up too quickly, but I do look forward to when he reaches the age that he's talking. Sometimes, even though he's barely four months old, I'd swear that when he looks at me he gets frustrated because he has so much to say."

"I'll bet he does," Anya agreed. "Get Geta in the right situation with the right crowd and he'll never quiet down." She giggled. "What do you think of this one?" she asked, holding up a shirt.

Bulma nodded in agreement. "Oh, definitely. Blue is your color."

* * *

Vegeta leaned back against one of the GR's walls, bored out of his mind but trying to be patient while he waited for the two women to finish. He heard non-stop chatter, giggling and everything else in between. _Females. Hmph._ He crossed his arms and scowled.

"I think our ride is getting restless," Bulma said, obviously picking up vibes from Vegeta. "Are you ready?"

Anya nodded. "It's not fair to keep Geta in the dark. I know you said he's okay, but..." She smiled weakly.

Bulma put a hand on Anya's arm and guided her back to the main chamber. "Let's go, then."

"About time, Woman," Vegeta grumbled sourly as they approached.

"I'm glad you're being such a good boy," Bulma whispered in his ear, latching onto his arm. She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled.

Vegeta inhaled and let the breath out slowly. "Let's go. I'll shield yours and the brat's ki." He turned to Bulma, not noticing Anya's insulted look.

Bulma sighed and shot him a displeased look. "By the way, Anya, don't take it personally. All children are 'brats'." She rolled her eyes.

* * *

They reappeared in the kitchen. "Stay here for now," Vegeta told them, smirking as he took his grandson from Anya and left the kitchen. "You must be quiet now, Boy. We're going to surprise your father, and we cannot do that if you say anything, got it?" He held in a chuckle when the child nodded solemnly. It seemed that since he looked enough like Geta, the child had decided to trust him.

Geta was glued to the soccer game being broadcasted on the television. "We're down by a goal," he informed his father, having sensed him come in.

"Hmph." Vegeta watched his son shove popcorn into his mouth with gusto. "Bunch of losers, if you ask me." He put a finger over his lips to remind his grandson not to make any noise.

Geta swallowed lest he spray popcorn across the room. "No, actually their record is fantastic this year. The other team is putting up a good fight." He paused. "So, what did you wish for?"

"Extended life," Vegeta told him, phrasing his response carefully.

"I guess I can't blame you after what I told you about the androids." Geta leaned over and picked up his glass from the coffee table. "Darn. Empty."

Vegeta figured this was just as good of an opportunity as any. "I'll bring you another soda," he offered. "I'm going to get myself a beer, anyway."

"Thanks! Why don't you make it two? Beer sounds good right now." Geta went back to his popcorn, pleasantly surprised by his father's offer.

"Fine. Hold the brat," Vegeta demanded, plopping the little boy down onto his unsuspecting father's lap and stepping out of the room.

Bulma had been watching and gave Anya a thumbs up. Anya smiled and nodded, more nervous than she thought she'd be. She crept closer, wanting to be able to step in at the right time.

Geta shifted the child on his lap. "Well, looks like it's just you and me, kid. How'd you get so... heavy?"

"Dada!" the little boy screeched excitedly, bouncing on his father's lap.

Geta stared blankly at the wall. _Is this some sort of joke?_ He looked down slowly at the child he held and let out a startled cry when he saw that it was not his younger self but his own son on his lap.

"Dada?" The little boy sounded confused. "Hi Da!"

"B-but how? You're _real_," he whispered, pinching his arm and feeling the sting it made. "Kami, this is real! M-my boy!" He examined the child much the way its mother had before clutching him to his chest, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. He kissed the top of the little boy's head. "Oh, my son!"

"No boo-hoo, Da," little Vegeta told his father. "Ha ha!"

Geta laughed. "You're right, big guy. Ha ha is much more appropriate right now." He wiped at his face and hugged the boy again, then paused. _But, _how_ did Father-_ His eyes widened. "Extended life," he breathed, realizing what it really was that his father had wished for. "But, if he brought my son back, what about..." He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. His heart began to race. _Could it really be-_

"Mama!" Vegeta giggled and clapped his hands excitedly. "Da! Lookit Mama!" He tugged at Geta's shirt, trying to get his attention as Anya waved and blew little kisses her son's way to keep him excited.

Geta was trembling despite his best effort. Another ki he hadn't felt in the room before was suddenly there, and it was unmistakable who it belonged to. He stood with the child in his arms and slowly opened his eyes. He'd begun breathing faster and was feeling light headed. _Kami, I'm hyperventilating-_

Vegeta's chubby little arm pointed the direction of the doorway. "Mama!"

"Hello, lover," a soft voice murmured, making him jerk reflexively.

Geta turned and choked when he saw her, nearly losing his grip on his squirming son. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him and he stood gaping at her.

"Don't you drop that brat and make me waste a wish, Boy. I could have gotten my tail back, you know," Vegeta growled good-naturedly as he came over and took the boy from his disbelieving son's arms. "Come on, Brat."

"Bwat!" the little boy crowed. "Bwat bwat bwat, ha ha..." The little voice trailed off.

"A-An..." Geta stared wide eyed at the young woman he'd called his wife as she approached him slowly. She stopped a couple of paces away, smiling in an almost shy manner.

He reached a trembling hand out to touch her cheek. Her smile widened and she tilted her head, nuzzling her face against his large hand, kissing the palm softly. "Geta," she whispered, turning her face up to look at him.

He fell to his knees before her, his face in his hands as he sobbed. "Anyakita!" he cried, throwing his arms around her waist. "Oh, Anya..." He buried his face against her belly.

She knelt down beside him, holding him tightly, her tears falling freely with his. "I love you, Geta," she murmured in his ear before burying her face against his neck.

"I love you, Anya. So very much," he whispered, kissing her hair. He cupped her face in his trembling hands. "I know it sounds clichéd, but when you died, my heart died, too." He smiled weakly at her. "I'll never be able to get over you." He drew her close and kissed her.

"Mmm..." Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He pulled her onto his lap and deepened the kiss, making her go limp in his arms. He broke the kiss to nuzzle and kiss her neck, unable to keep his hands from roaming as things became more and more heated. She moaned his name, which made him even more excited, and he slid his hands under her shirt.

Anya regained her senses and grasped his hands in her much smaller ones. "Not here, Romeo," she managed. "If you think no one will notice, you're mistaken." She shivered, shaking her head. "You haven't lost your touch, Your Highness."

"Neither have you, Your Majesty," Geta responded in kind, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Don't you forget it, either!" Anya giggled when he went for her neck again. "Why don't you show me your room, hmm?" she asked suggestively, tracing a finger down the side of his neck. "Or should I say _our_ room?"

He complied before she could even finish her sentence.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I realize now that I didn't think far enough ahead when I started this story to include a son in Geta's life. True, any man capable of producing a child could be a father at nineteen, but considering I only put Geta at twenty, that would make his son no more than a couple months old since he and Anya were killed by the Androids between six and seven months prior to where the story is now. Little Vegeta is already toddling around and speaking basic words, which wouldn't be the case even for a Saiyan infant. If it was, little VJ would also be doing it, and he is definitely younger than his sort-of "nephew" is.

This being the case, I'm going to have to amend a couple of things. Everything in Chapter One should have originally happened twenty-_two_ years in the future instead of twenty-one, which would make Geta twenty-one at this point of the story. Anya should be twenty, going on twenty-one, eight months younger than Geta, but since she was dead for a while she can only be _just_ twenty. I think for the sake of simplicity they would still say she'd be turning twenty-one when wintertime (in January, if Geta was a May baby) comes around again. Their son is a little more confusing; he would be a little more than a year old 'now' although he should be closer to two.

Head... hurts... Confused yet? Sorry! Big oversight on my part, I know, but hopefully the extra year fixes it.

I will be gradually going over each chapter and making little changes. Nothing plot-changing, just fixing minor errors I found after the fact. If revisions are made, I will put the date at the top of the chapter so no 'Did I read this yet?' guesswork is needed.

Also, I wanted to make a clarification about the usage of name spellings in my story. It was pointed out to me that Vegeta's name is spelled with a j rather than a g, because the 'ge' would lead to a mispronunciation (a soft g, like the 'ge' of 'get', with a short vowel sound, instead of a hard 'gee' sound the 'jii' would produce). Technically, this is correct- as long as you are speaking and writing in _Japanese,_ that is. While it doesn't bother me personally to see other authors do it (as long as the vocabulary and/or spellings are used correctly) I have opted, for the most part, not to sneak Japanese words and spellings into this story. You won't see Bejiita, Buruma, onna, or Chikyuu here (although I _do_ have a particular situation in mind where I know I will use Japanese for a specific reason, to differentiate the two Standard languages). My reason for this is because technically, Dragonball Z doesn't take place in Japan or even on our Earth; it takes place on an _alternate_ Earth. What we imagine as corresponding to Japan here is Western Country. They don't speak Japanese or English; they speak Standard. At least, this is how _I_ understand it- and I could be wrong- and that is how I decided to write it for the purposes of this story. So in a nutshell, neither way is incorrect; it's just a matter of personal taste. :)

Whew!

Oh, a cute little side point about Geta's name- it's both a Saiyan and a human name! A _geta_ is a type of shoe, so the name conforms to a family name both ways. Good choice, Bulma! Vegeta had better get used to that 'disgraceful' nickname now. ;)

Again, this chapter does contain some 'fluff', but it helps set certain things up.

Thanks to my husband, who read this over for me.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"Leave."

Goku frowned. He had been _excited_ when he found out the reason for the dragon being summoned, and now Vegeta was being poopy about it. "But-"

Vegeta shoved Goku toward the kitchen door, _this _close from picking up the younger man by the back of his pants and the scruff of his neck and tossing him through the door like a disobedient puppy. "I told you, when she is settled in I am sure Anya will for some unfathomable reason be pleased to meet you. She is busy right now. Now go away."

"Busy doing what? She just got here, right?" Goku whined. He really wanted to meet Geta's wife; she sounded so interesting and nice, and probably could provide some additional insight on the androids.

"She's busy doing something that I'm eternally grateful to all that's holy doesn't involve you," Vegeta told him bluntly, smirking when Goku frowned at the insult.

"Vegeta..." Bulma sighed. At least the meaning of Vegeta's choice of words had gone right over her clueless friend's head.

In the blink of an eye Goku suddenly changed mental gears. "Hey, I know! Maybe I'll just tell everyone it's all okay and come back later," he decided brightly, as thoughtfully as if it had been his idea all along.

"Good idea, you do that," Vegeta agreed, shoving Goku out of the house and smirking even wider at the younger man's yelp of distress as his backside hit the landing. "Now shoo!" He slammed the door in Goku's face and sat back down at the table, positioning his infant son comfortably on his lap. "What an idiot."

"Bye-bye!" little Vegeta crowed. "Ha ha!"

"You said it, Boy. I wholeheartedly agree. Ha ha _haa!_" Vegeta plucked another slice of pizza from the box on the table and took a bite of it.

"Vegeta, you aren't teaching our grandson to be very nice to Goku," Bulma objected with a frown.

"What's your point, Woman?" came the Saiyan's rather self-satisfied response.

While it was refreshing to see her mate in such a good mood, Bulma didn't want it to be at her best friend's expense, or make it seem to their grandson that it was okay to do so because his grandfather did. "Vegeta..." She sighed again and continued eating her salad with a sad shake of her head.

Dr. Briefs burst into the kitchen breathlessly. "Bulma, I've received some very strange phone calls," he gasped, sitting down at the table with his daughter and Vegeta. "What's happened?"

Bulma swallowed and nodded. "Yes, I got them too," she acknowledged. "Pizza, Daddy?" she asked casually, pushing a box on the table containing a half-eaten deep-dish pie his way. "I think there's some fire wings left too if you want them."

Vegeta stopped chewing and gave her a deer in the headlights look before dropping his eyes and hastily resuming his lunch.

"Okay, scratch the wings," Bulma corrected with amusement. Her mate had actually looked a little guilty; maybe that would teach him to eat the entire box himself. "I hope you remembered what we agreed upon should one of us have to use the dragonballs without the other's knowledge."

"Then it _was_ the dragon being summoned," Dr. Briefs murmured. "No, I didn't forget. Another wacky Capsule Corp experiment it was, indeed." He sighed and reached for a slice of pizza. "Who wished for what this time?"

Bulma scowled at her mate. "_Vegeta_ here decided that it would be clever to sneak into my lab and take them without telling me," she complained. "It's not as though I would have disagreed with what he wanted to wish for."

Dr. Briefs looked over at Vegeta, who had just shoved half a breadstick into his mouth. "What _did_ you wish for, Vegeta?"

The prince chewed a few times before attempting to answer. "Extended life," he responded around the breadstick.

"What do you mean...?" Dr. Briefs paused when he realized that _both_ adults held a child on their laps. "Bulma, whose child is that you're holding?" This whole day was becoming more and more strange.

Vegeta swallowed. "Anya and Geta's brat," he interjected before she could reply.

"Anya and Geta's?" the doctor echoed weakly. "Are you saying...?"

Bulma nodded, beaming from ear to ear despite her mate's poster child for the impolite behavior. "Vegeta wished back Anya and little Vegeta," she confirmed excitedly. "This is Vegeta." She turned her attention to the shy little boy. "Vegeta, this is _my_ daddy," she explained.

Dr. Briefs realized he'd been gaping at the child in astonishment and corrected himself. "Well, hello there, young man," he addressed his great-grandson cordially. He had a _great_-grandson; what an astonishing concept that was, since his only grandchild was hardly four months old. "I'm so pleased to see you here." This simple statement would do. He was, in fact, pleased that the boy and his mother were alive and well, and impressed that Vegeta had not only thought of raising them but had taken the initiative to so himself. There was far, far more to this man than met the eye.

"Hi," the bashful little boy said in a tiny voice.

The doctor broke out into a huge smile. What an adorable child! "Where is your mama? I would like to say hello to her too."

They all looked at Vegeta when he barked out a laugh. "Let's just say that the boy's father was also pleased to see her," he said smoothly, a naughty grin on his face. "Quite pleased. Evidently she wanted to see his room." He laughed again when the good doctor's eyebrows rose.

"Oh," was all the older man could think to say.

Bulma was about to speak when she saw what her mate was currently doing. "Vegeta, would you quit giving the kids food they shouldn't have?" she shrieked. "He's going to get sick even if he doesn't choke on that!"

Vegeta looked down at the infant he was holding. "The child is perfectly fine, Bulma! Would you calm yourself?" he objected in annoyance. "See? He likes it." He smirked as his son happily gummed on a chicken bone in an attempt to suck the last little bit of hot sauce off of it.

"I won't like it when he chokes on that bone, and you won't like it when you're the one changing his diapers for the next week until his indigestion goes away," Bulma retorted, turning her face away. She would have no part in this.

"Nummy!" the child on her lap exclaimed, having accepted a second bone with some sauce on it from his smirking grandfather. "Fank you!"

"Uhm, Vegeta..." Dr. Briefs began hesitantly.

"You're welcome, Boy," Vegeta proclaimed.

Bulma turned her attention back to her grandson in time to see him licking the bone Vegeta had given him. "Vegeta!"

"What? He thanked me and I told him he is welcome. Isn't that well-mannered behavior?" Vegeta laughed as the child's blue eyes grew wide in surprise. "Oh, leave him be, Woman," he told her in a firm, yet soft voice. "He's not going to choke on it, are you Boy?"

The child's face had grown a little pinker and he shook his head. "No! Wanna wawa!" he yelped.

"Now see what you did?" Bulma complained, gently dabbing the boy's lips and giving him a sip from her glass. "He doesn't like the sauce. And I'm surprised VJ hasn't spit up all over you yet."

"Hmph." Vegeta said nothing. Their son was half Saiyan; of course the sauce wasn't bothering him. Their grandson was only a quarter Saiyan, and probably used to eating whatever bland food his parents were able to find for him.

"Fank you!" the little boy chirped. "You nice lady."

Bulma beamed at the child. "Oh, you're such a sweetheart..." She trailed off when he stuck the bone back into his mouth with a little 'mmm...' "I don't believe this," she muttered, ignoring her mate's smirking face.

"Well," Dr. Briefs interjected after recovering from his surprise from what he'd just witnessed, "I suppose I should find your mother and have her come home, Bulma."

"Oh, right. Good idea, Daddy. Hey, keep an eye on your son," Bulma complained, turning her attention back to her mate. "He'd better not choke on that."

"Cease with the nagging, Woman," Vegeta growled. "You had best not do that around the girl or else she is going to think you're insane." The smirk reappeared.

"Vegeta, I doubt she'll think _I'm_ the one-" Bulma stopped talking when the kitchen door opened.

"I _knew_ I smelled pizza!" Geta announced cheerfully as he entered the kitchen, Anya behind him. "Hey, Gramps. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

The look on his grandson's face couldn't have been any prouder. "This lovely young lady must be Anya," Dr. Briefs decided, rising from his seat to approach her. "I'm so very pleased for both of you. All three of you," he amended his statement quickly, including the little boy Bulma still held. "I've no doubt that the missus and I will grow as fond of both of you as we have this dear boy." He put a hand on Geta's back.

"Thank you. I'm very glad to meet the grandfather of whom Geta spoke so highly," Anya responded genuinely. She smiled and giggled; the older man held out his hand to her. "This isn't a business meeting, so let's have a hug, not a handshake!" She giggled again as she gave him a hug. "Where's Bunny?" she asked as she released him. "I'm looking forward to meeting her as well."

Dr. Briefs found himself already liking the young woman his grandson had chosen for his wife. "She's shopping, but I'll certainly call her right away." He picked up the phone.

"Don't bother calling," Vegeta spoke up. "She is approximately one mile away from the grounds."

"You're keeping tabs on my mother?" Bulma asked, her eyebrow raising. "What, did she promise to bring you something from the food court at the mall?" she teased.

Vegeta growled, a slight blush on his cheeks. He'd _never_ admit that the old woman had said she'd bring him one of those soft, chewy pretzels he liked. "Quiet yourself, Woman."

Bulma only smiled. He was so cute when he blushed, especially when it was because she was right. "Whatever you say, Dear."

"Oh! Vegeta, what are you eating?" Anya exclaimed in dismay.

"Yummy, Mama!" The little boy held up the bone he'd licked clean for his mother's inspection.

"Mother, you gave him hot sauce?" Geta queried in the same tone of voice his wife had.

"No, your _father_ gave him hot sauce," Bulma corrected her son. "I had nothing to do with it and even voiced my objections."

"Of course you did," Vegeta supplied thoughtfully. "Gripe gripe, criticize criticize..." He smirked when Anya couldn't hold in her giggle at the irritation on Bulma's face.

"I'm back, everyone!" trilled Mrs. Briefs' voice as the door opened. "Vegeta, I brought you some pretzels, Dear!" She paused when she saw someone in the house who hadn't been there when she'd left. "Oh, hello there," she said, confusion coloring her face. "I don't believe we've... oh! Oh, my!" Realization of who this stranger was hit her like a brick when the young woman let go of Geta's hand and approached her. "You're Anya, aren't you?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, I'm Anya, and Bulma is holding my little boy Vegeta."

Mrs. Briefs squealed in delight and grabbed Anya up in a hug. "I knew it! Someone wished you back with the dragonballs, how wonderful!" She giggled excitedly. "I thought it was far too nice of a day to suddenly get a storm. This truly is a beautiful day!"

Anya smiled at the others over Mrs. Briefs' shoulder as she returned the energetic hug she was receiving. "Thanks, Bunny. Vegeta, come meet Da's grandma," she told her son.

Mrs. Briefs wasted no time in scooping up the wide-eyed child from its grandmother's lap. "Oh my land, but aren't you the most darling little boy," she proclaimed.

"Hi," Vegeta responded shyly.

Mrs. Briefs squealed with delight and clutched the little boy closer, placing a loud kiss on his cheek. "Oh my, but you're simply precious. I'll just have to make you some cookies," she decided. "Would you like that, Sweetheart?"

The boy quickly recovered from his surprise and his lips formed a little round 'O' at the mention of cookies. He nodded vigorously. "Yeah!"

"Uhm, Gram? I don't know if cookies are the best idea," Geta began, but his grandmother waved off his concerns.

"Oh, pish posh," Mrs. Briefs pouted. "It's never a bother to make cookies for my precious grandchildren. We'll plump those little cheeks right up, you'll see." She kissed the child's cheek again. "Oh! We need to go shopping," she continued. "We'll need clothes for both of you, and some toys for you, young man." She paused and giggled when the little boy she held hugged her around the neck. "You are just darling, the same as your father and baby Vegeta." She paused again. "Oh, my. That makes four Vegetas in the house. However will we keep you all straight?"

Vegeta had wondered if the insane blonde woman would _ever_ shut up. And how many times more would she utter the words 'oh, my'? "Your daughter already created asinine nicknames for my son." He too paused. "Sons... whatever. I suppose she will make one up for him, too." He indicated the boy in Mrs. Briefs' arms.

"Probably, just to spite you," Bulma agreed, winking at him. "Or, we could give _you_ one."

"Not a chance in hell, Woman," Vegeta retorted before she could even complete her sentence. "You had better not address me with some stupid nickname." It was bad enough that she used little pet names with him; the mere thought of a nickname that would stick was even worse.

"Don't worry, Dear," Mrs. Briefs assured him brightly. "We'll figure it all out." She positioned little Vegeta on her hip and retrieved a capsule from her purse. "This is for you."

Vegeta ignored Bulma's knowing chuckle and opened the capsule. She had even brought dipping cheese! This female wasn't as stupid as she made herself out to be. "Good."

Mrs. Briefs smiled at Vegeta as he quickly devoured the pretzels she'd brought for him. Such a dear young man he was! Satisfied for the time being, she looked over to Anya. "How about we go shopping for the things you two need, then we can all go out to dinner?" she suggested. "Oh, and I need to make little Vegeta's cookies," she mused.

Anya thought about it and gave her husband's grandmother a little shrug. "I guess that's fine by me as long as everyone else likes the idea," she agreed.

"That's fine with me, Bunny. Bulma and I need to make up an official 'story' about the so-called experiment that was held today, and then we really do have some lab work to do," Dr. Briefs decided, catching his daughter's eye. "You are ready for me, aren't you, Bulma?"

"Absolutely," Bulma agreed with a nod of her head. "I want to get this project done as soon as possible, because I've got most of the data I need for the next one compiled to start on."

"You should be working on my regeneration tank, Woman, instead of whatever little gizmo you're playing with," Vegeta piped up.

Bulma frowned at him. "Great. It was _supposed_ to be a surprise. Were you picking my brain just now or was that just a good guess?" she pouted, arms crossed stubbornly.

Vegeta looked at her in surprise; she'd given no indication that she'd even started on his regeneration tank yet. "A good guess?" A small smile of satisfaction flickered over his lips but he quickly hid it.

"Hmm." Bulma put her plate in the sink. She'd seen the pleased look he'd let slip out. It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting that, nor had he seemed to have noticed that she'd repaired Radditz' broken scouter. This was a good thing, because if she was to truly surprise him with her next project, her cover would be blown if he caught her using it for that. She'd have to think up some story to tell him. The amount of information she had been able to access from it was astounding and, despite her not being able to read the majority of it, she had come across some diagrams and equations that were finds no matter what language the scientist spoke. "Well, I need you and Geta to come by the lab so I can take a blood draw from you both," she instructed. "I'm having trouble properly formulating the healing fluid for some reason."

"Why do you want our blood for that?" Vegeta asked with a frown that seemed more curious than upset.

"Well, you two are the ones who will be using the tank the most," Dr. Briefs pointed out. "Even though you thought that it seemed to be the same fluid that was used no matter the species of patient, it makes the most sense to tailor the chemical balance to Saiyan genes, at least for the time being."

Bulma nodded in agreement. "And since Geta is half human, testing his blood and mine or another human's too gives us a good stepping stone for development of a fluid for use by more than Saiyans only. For instance, if I had been able to finish the tank before VJ was born, I could have used it to heal myself instead of the senzu bean I ate."

"I hadn't even considered that," Dr. Briefs added thoughtfully.

"You used a senzu bean when you birthed the boy?"

There was a long pause.

Bulma broke the uncomfortable silence permeating the kitchen. "Yes, Yamcha gave me one that he'd saved," she said quietly in response to her mate's surprised question. "It... wasn't an easy delivery for me. He was a big baby."

"Oh. You never mentioned that." Vegeta managed to hide his alarm. He knew that his son would be on the larger side because the physician for females had said he would be, but he hadn't known that his mate had required a senzu bean when she'd given birth. What had the brat done, clawed his way out from her womb?

"You never asked." Bulma's voice was little more than a whisper. She drew in a deep breath; it hadn't been her intention to bring up that aspect of their son's birth, especially in front of everyone. "Well, uhm, anyway..."

There was another uncomfortable pause. "Yes, anyway," Anya spoke up cheerfully. "We should get going so they can get started on their fluid, right Bunny?" she offered. It had crossed her mind that she and Geta too could have used such a device on numerous occasions, but she'd wisely held her tongue. "Did you want to come too, Honey, or were you going to train?"

Geta gave his wife a smile of admiration. He knew what she'd been thinking by the barely perceptible little twitch her body had made during the conversation. The feeling in the room had been uncomfortable, but how she'd managed to so fluidly smooth things over the way she had only added to her value as his cherished wife in his eyes. "Sure, I'll come with you. We'll take both boys so Mother and Gramps don't have to worry about watching them."

"Thanks, Geta," Bulma responded gratefully. "That'll help out a lot. Just don't forget to give me your draw before you go."

* * *

"You never told me about the senzu bean."

Bulma pulled the rubber strip around Vegeta's bicep to loosen it. "Uhm, I guess I just never thought to tell you about it," she murmured, not meeting his eyes. She pulled the tube off of the syringe and attached a new one.

"What happened?"

Bulma could feel his gaze upon her and looked up at him. "I was going to have a c-section, but by the time I got to the clinic and Natsue arrived, he was too far down my birth canal." Bulma held a cotton ball over the needle and withdrew it from Vegeta's arm. "Here, put some pressure on this for a moment while I get a band-aid."

"I don't need a band-aid." Vegeta's voice sounded unusually quiet.

She took this as a prompt to continue, a little surprised that he was so interested that he'd bring up the subject himself. Could he actually be concerned about her, or possibly even remorseful that he wasn't there? "He was too big, so my flesh tore when he came out. It was very painful and I lost some blood, but fortunately Natsue was expecting that as a very good possibility and was prepared for it. She knew exactly what to do."

The physician for females couldn't have known it, but she had just earned an even better spot on the very short list of individuals who had earned Vegeta's respect. "I see."

Bulma wasn't sure how to react. Was that the only response she was going to get from this man? Did he care in the slightest about everything she'd gone through while pregnant with his son, let alone during the birth? Would it have even phased him had she died? "Yes, well, that's what happened," she responded a little icily. There was no point in becoming angry with Vegeta over something that she couldn't change and wouldn't make a difference now anyway. "Thanks. You can go train now." She turned her back to him and began prepping her work area to run tests on the blood she'd just drawn.

There it was. The big question, the same question that idiot third class had dared propose: would he be affected by Bulma's death? He knew the answer and, while it bothered him, right now that didn't matter. He understood now, especially now, why Bulma had been hurt, both when he'd first come back and why she was hurt now. She didn't think that he truly cared if anything happened to her. Suppressing a sigh, Vegeta got up from his chair and took the vial Bulma was holding from her, setting it down on the table.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" Bulma exclaimed in surprise. "I was going to analyze-"

He placed a finger over her lips to silence her. What she wanted to do could wait. What she _needed_ could not. He pushed the part of himself that was angry at the realization away in favor of the part that wanted to comfort and protect his mate, this frail little female who had not only undergone so much to provide him with the heir he'd never thought he'd ever have, but sacrificed so much to satisfy his wants, his needs, his desires.

Right now, he'd satisfy hers.

He drew her into his arms and kissed her. It was a soft and gentle kiss that made her hurt melt away, shortly followed by her knees. The fingers of one hand played with the long blue hair he so admired, and his other arm supported her as carefully as the fragile porcelain doll he still saw her as required.

When the kiss ended, Bulma leaned against him for support, her cheek buried against his shoulder. She sighed in happiness when both of his arms closed around her and his chin rested on top of her head. Didn't he know how much moments like this one meant to her? How could he not know? What could she do to communicate to him just how very much he was loved?

"I..." He drew a small breath. "I'm sorry, Bulma. I had not realized how difficult birthing the boy was for you."

Bulma lifted her head and gazed up at him in utter astonishment. He'd actually apologized to her! She would never have expected that.

She _never_ expected what he said next.

"I suppose I will have to thank the moron for supplying you with the bean in my absence," he muttered sourly.

The surprise in her eyes faded to happiness. He _cared_ that she had been in pain while giving birth to their son and, in a round-about, warped Vegeta way, had acknowledged that he was grateful for her recovery, covering it up by picking on her ex-boyfriend. He did care, he had to! "Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, letting out a little giggle at the 'hmph' he gave her in response. "I love you." She rested her head back down on his chest.

He knew by the happiness on her lovely face and radiating from her very being that he said the right thing. Why was it so difficult to please his mate, despite the pleasure he derived from her happiness by his own doing?

That was when the thought came back to him.

_Because you are allowing this female to continue to make you weak,_ his mind attacked back. _Your coddling of her foolish human emotions makes you just as much of a human as she is! And you call yourself the Prince of Saiyans? You're a weak, pathetic fool, like that third-class idiot Kakarrot is!_

Vegeta drew in a deep breath and gently disengaged himself from Bulma's grasp. "That will do, Woman," he murmured. "I must train, and you need to get to work." He headed for the door, irritated that despite everything that had just gone through his head, he couldn't allow himself to do or say anything that would upset his mate. He would, instead, quietly take his leave in the least aggressive way possible.

Bulma didn't seem to notice the mental battle Vegeta was waging. "Okay," she responded softly. "Could you tell Daddy I'm ready for him now? Unless, of course, you can think of a reason to delay him?" She smiled coyly when Vegeta stopped mid-stride.

_You're weak! Tell her to shut her stupid trap and get to work!_ his mind screamed at him as he made a beeline back to her, stripping off his shirt on the way. He pushed the thought away. There was no mistaking the look in Bulma's eyes- she wanted him, and she wanted him _now_.

What red-blooded male wouldn't answer that call?

* * *

"Oh, but this is beautiful!" Mrs. Briefs took the rich red silk blouse from the rack and held it up in front of Anya. "You absolutely must try this one on."

"Yes, it is," Anya agreed, "but I really don't think I need _all_ of these clothes."

Mrs. Briefs tsked gently. "Nonsense, Dear! My grandson is a prince, and you're his wife, which makes you a princess," she began. "That means you deserve the absolute best of everything." She beamed happily and turned back to her shopping.

Anya just managed to hold in her amusement. _If only you knew... Evidently Geta didn't cover that part of the story._ "Thank you, Bunny. I appreciate you and Shatsu taking such good care of us."

"It's my pleasure, Dear, and I know Shatsu feels the same." She perused the rack one more time, picked out a soft blue turtleneck, and handed her selections to the loaded-down saleswoman. "She'll try these on too."

"Not a problem, Mrs. Briefs. I'll show you to the room we've set up for you." The overloaded woman turned and headed toward the dressing rooms, where another saleswoman rushed up to unlock the door and relieve her fellow associate of part of her burden.

"See, Anya? Such a nice big room, and three-way mirrors out here if you want to step out and see yourself full-length. I just love shopping at Chic Vêtements," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "I always leave satisfied."

"We're so happy to be of service, Mrs. Briefs," the saleswoman assured her as she hung Anya's selections on the rod inside the room. "Please let one of us know if there is anything at all we can get for you, perhaps another size or color."

"Thank you." Anya nodded to the woman as she left. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she'd been pampered and lavished with the best of everything, and she felt decidedly melancholy.

"Are you all right, Dear?"

Anya turned back to Mrs. Briefs, who looked concerned. "Oh, I'm fine, thanks. Just a little overwhelmed is all."

Mrs. Briefs clucked her tongue. "You poor dear. You've been through so much. But don't you worry, we'll fix you up just fine. Once we find you clothes, we'll get shoes, and some accessories, and oh! A nice handbag or three," she mused. "We mustn't forget the handbag. And undergarments too. How could we forget those?" She paused. "How about something lacy to entice your man, hmm? I know that his father is often in a good mood when Bulma goes lingerie shopping." A slow smile spread over her face.

Anya turned several shades of pink. She hadn't figured Mrs. Briefs to be so naughty! "I don't know, Bunny. We'll see how it goes." It wasn't as though her husband actually needed any help or encouragement; he'd practically devoured her whole earlier that day.

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "You're such a lovely girl, so dear. Come now, let's see how these things look."

* * *

"Dat! Wan dat!"

"You like this one?" Geta held up a shirt with SpongeBob SquarePants on it.

"Yeah!" Vegeta's eyes shone and he practically danced in excitement. He was getting new stuff, and for big boys!

His father chuckled. He wasn't sure if the boy had to pee, was merely excited, or if it was a combination of both. Oh, how he'd missed his exuberant son! "Okay, I'm sure Gram will buy it for you." The baby in his arms whimpered suddenly. "What's wrong, hmm?"

Vegeta's lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Baby boo-hoo, Da?"

"No, I think he's okay. What do you see, VJ?" Geta followed the baby's eyes to a shirt with some cartoon racecars on it. It wasn't difficult to see why he'd noticed it, as the shirt was bright red. "Do you see the cars, VJ? Maybe we should get the t-shirt for Vegeta and the jumper over there for you. How about that?" He chuckled again when the boy stared up at him with huge blue eyes. "I bet you just have a gazillion and ten things to say, don't you?" he asked the child, unknowingly voicing his mother's earlier sentiments.

The baby broke out into a huge, toothless smile.

Geta couldn't contain his laugh. "Okay, it's a go." He peeked at the tags on the little jumpsuits and selected the baby's size. "I think that will do it," he told the waiting salesman, who was almost as heavily loaded down as his female counterpart had been.

"Very good, Sir," the salesman responded. "This way, please."

* * *

"Geta! Over here, Dear!"

Geta looked up from his triple-decker club sandwich to see his grandmother and wife approaching. "Good timing, we're almost done with our snack," he responded, rising from his seat. "Did you want some...?" He trailed off incoherently.

"See? I told you a nice haircut and rinse would do wonders for your hair, Anya," Mrs. Briefs declared. She giggled as the young woman blushed at her husband's reaction. It wasn't just Anya's hair her grandson was looking at.

She was wearing a floral dress with bell sleeves and an A-line skirt. Her shiny blonde hair was done up in an elegant twist. A pearl necklace was around her neck, matching drop earrings dangled from her ears. Heels, a handbag and just a little touch of make-up completed the look.

Geta swallowed and took his wife's hands in his. They were so tiny comparatively, so delicate. "You're beautiful, Anya," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Gods, he'd missed her, but he'd never forgotten how beautiful she was. He took his time standing up from the kiss. She smelled good too. He'd always loved her unique scent.

Anya's blush deepened. He always did like to exaggerate how pretty he thought she was. "Thanks, Sweetie." She giggled and reached up to brush a crumb from the corner of his mouth. "Caught in the act."

He grinned lazily at her, his eyelids heavy.

:Oh, get your mind out of the gutter,: she mock chastised him.

:Why?:

:Ooh! You're incorrigible.:

:But isn't that why you love me?:

Anya's lips twitched. :Well...: Her mental giggle permeated his mind. :Among other things.:

:Ha! Why don't you get your mind out of the gutter, m'lady?:

"Mama!" a little voice interrupted their mental tête-à-tête. "Lookit!"

Anya smiled at her son's current choice of clothing. He wore a tiny pair of blue jeans and sandals adorned his feet. Emblazoned across his shirt was a large green man along with a cat wearing boots and a hat and wielding a fencing sword. "Wow, that's a cool shirt," she commented, noting her husband's lips twitch in amusement. "Did Daddy buy that for you?"

"Yeah, Sweck's neat-o!" the boy squealed.

"Neat-o," Geta repeated, nodding solemnly. "Well, are we ready ladies and germy boys?"

VJ hiccupped and promptly spit up on his caretaker's shirt.

Geta sighed. "I rest my case."

* * *

"So, c'mon. Show us what you got," Bulma demanded. She loved clothes shopping, as evidenced by the sheer volume of garments in her huge closet.

"I'm going to go train," Vegeta grumbled, not wanting to be subjected to another fashion show.

"Don't you want to see Anya's new clothes, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked brightly. "Besides, Geta said he got some new clothes for little VJ."

"Oh boy oh boy," Vegeta responded sarcastically, making her giggle. "I think I'll train."

"Bulma, I'll get out what we got for Vegeta first," Anya suggested, before her father-in-law could take his leave. She examined a capsule and popped it open, having been used to capsules since she met Geta, then held up a pair of rather stylish, expensive looking sunglasses from one of the bags. "Nice, huh?"

"You bought those for Vegeta?" Bulma asked, a skeptical look on her face as she looked over to her grandson.

"No, not little Vegeta," Bunny attempted to clarify. "Big Vegeta."

"You know, Vegeta Senior." Anya giggled. "Pops."

The eldest Vegeta snorted. "_Pops_?"

Anya giggled again at the aghast expression on his face. "Would you prefer Papa?" she asked, totally disregarding the option of 'Father', as Geta addressed him.

Now, this was a bold girl- she'd known him for a matter of hours and was already referring to him by some stupid nickname! "No, I would not," he retorted.

"Okay then. Here, try these on. I know what looks good on Geta, so I'm sure you'll look awesome in these." Anya held up the sunglasses without missing a beat.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath and scowled as he grabbed the sunglasses. If history was any indication, if he didn't try the foolish things on, the females in the room would never shut up. "Fine."

Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands together. "Oh my, but you were right. Those look very nice, Dear."

Bulma's lips curled up. "Nice? I'd say pretty hot."

"Not bad, Father," Geta added with a nod. "Show him what else we got him, An."

Vegeta decided that perhaps this might not be so bad after all when she pulled a black leather jacket from the bag. His little grunt of "hmph" didn't sound displeased in the least as he slipped it on.

"Bunny didn't think you had one yet," Anya supplied. "You look wicked cool, Pops."

"Wicka cool!" little Vegeta crowed.

Vegeta ignored flipped up the collar of the jacket, flashing a toothy grin as he did so and making them all laugh.

"You'll do, Vegeta, you'll do," Dr. Briefs agreed, chuckling.

"Yeah, he will," Bulma murmured under her breath. Maybe she should send her mother and daughter-in-law out shopping more often.

* * *

"So... did you buy anything sexy that you didn't show the others?"

Anya shivered as her husband's warm breath tickled her neck. "Maybe," she murmured, turning in his arms to face him.

He frowned. She wasn't smiling. "What's wrong, sweet thing? What did I say?"

She managed a little smile. "I just don't feel very sexy right now. Most of the clothes Bunny picked out I didn't get. Normally I would have loved them, but... I'm just so ugly and nasty looking. I'm too skinny. Nothing looked good on me. Trust me." She turned her face away when she felt her eyes welling up with tears.

"Oh, Anya..." Geta held his wife close. "You're most certainly not ugly or nasty looking, trust me. Do you really think an ugly, nasty woman would have turned me into a delirious fool like you did at the mall today?" He tilted her chin his way and kissed her softly, blotting away her tears. "I love you, Anya, so very much. You just haven't been in the best of health lately. You'll feel better soon, you'll see."

"I love you too." Anya sniffled. "And I hope so."

"It took me a couple of weeks to start getting my strength back when I got here, and now look at me. I look and feel so much better than I did. You'll be fine." Geta settled back on the bed, resting her comfortably against his chest. "The hell we went through is over now, Sweetheart. Everyone who needs to know about it does. We have nearly three years to prepare." His hand smoothed her hair gently.

She sniffled again. "Are you sure we can do it this time?"

He nodded. "With especially Father and Goku prepared, I have no doubt that we can be ready for them this time." He, too, found himself avoiding using the word.

_Androids._

"Okay," Anya whispered, unable to suppress a shudder.

"I know, Sweetheart. I know. It'll be okay, I promise." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm so happy to have you and Vegeta here. Words cannot express it." He squeezed her a little tighter.

"Me too." Anya let out a little grunt. "Hey, Romeo. Did you want me to squeeze right back? I broke your hand when Vegeta was born, remember?"

Geta chuckled. "I remember. Sorry, sometimes I forget about how weak and fragile you are."

Anya gasped, affronted. "Just you wait. Tomorrow I'm going to kick your ass!"

A low laugh rumbled in her ear. "That's my girl. Now let's get some sleep."

Anya giggled. He always knew how to make her feel better. "Good night, Geta."

"Good night, Anya."

The room was quiet for a moment.

"Pops?" Another laugh rumbled in her ear.

"I don't know! It just came out!"

"Talk about getting your ass kicked."

"Oh, no he won't. I can tell he likes me."

"Father doesn't like anyone." Geta chuckled. "Although, maybe you'll be the exception. After all, he does tolerate Gram-"

Faster than the eye of the average beholder could see, her pillow came down on his chest, right on the spot she'd just vacated. "That does it! I'll kick your ass right here and now!"

"Yes! Thank you, Kami!" Geta proclaimed, a naughty grin on his face.

There was a knock at the door. "Mama? Dada?"

Geta paused mid-swing with his own pillow and gave his wife a resigned look. "It's better off this way. We would have just destroyed these pillows," he murmured.

"Or the whole room." Anya giggled as her husband tossed his pillow onto the bed and opened the bedroom door. "Come in, baby boy. Oh. Hello, Pops."

Vegeta gave his son an odd look. "What the hell were you two doing? There's a _feather_ in your hair."

"Oh. Heh. Nothing." Geta ran his fingers through his hair.

"Nothing? Damn, if that's nothing, I'm going to move your room to the other end of the house," Vegeta retorted, feeling a wicked sense of satisfaction as a blush crept over his son's cheeks. "No wonder the boy can't sleep."

Anya giggled from across the room. "Sorry about that." She patted the bed beside her. "Come sleep with Mama and Da tonight, baby boy."

"Okay!" The little boy toddled over to the bed, where he was scooped up by his mother. He waved to Vegeta. "Ni-ni!"

Vegeta's lips twitched into the briefest of smiles. The boy _was_ rather amiable. "Good night, Boy. Now go to bed."

Another giggle issued from the room. "Good night Pops!"

Vegeta sighed. "Good night, Girl." It seemed as though it would be as difficult to break the girl of calling him that as it was breaking his mate of calling him ridiculous little pet names. He turned to leave, but Geta's barely perceptible voice stopped him.

"Father?"

"Hn?" He looked over his shoulder.

The expression on his son's face was one of happiness and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so much."

Vegeta nodded once. If he stayed there any longer, the boy might hug him. "You're welcome." He raised his voice so the other occupants of the room would hear. "Now go to sleep, all of you."

"Well?" Bulma closed the nursery door as quietly as possible and headed toward their room.

"Who the hell knows?" Vegeta grumbled. "The fool boy had feathers in his hair."

Bulma giggled as they stepped into the room. "Maybe she hit him with her pillow."

Vegeta scowled as he tossed his shirt into the laundry basket beside the bed. "You did that once. I did not find it to be amusing."

"I didn't mean it to be amusing. But it can be fun." Bulma grabbed one of the many pillows off of the bed and took a swing at him with it.

"Woman!" Vegeta protested, grabbing the pillow. "What are you doing?" His other hand snatched a second pillow from her.

"Pillow fight!" She giggled and filched a third pillow from the bed, hitting him squarely in the side of the head with it.

He stood, motionless, and simply stared at her.

Bulma giggled, unsure of whether or not to be nervous that he'd be angry. After all, what she had just done to him wasn't exactly dignified. "Veg, you should see the expression on your face! It's completely priceless. Where's my camera?" She opened her dresser drawer but was rudely interrupted by a pillow smacking across her backside, knocking her off balance. "Oof!"

"You're right. Priceless." Vegeta grabbed his shrieking mate about the waist and tossed her on the bed before barraging her with a pillow in each hand. "And fun."

"Stop!" Bulma squealed, laughing so hard she was nearly crying. "You're gonna ruin my pillows!"

"Oh, it wasn't ruining them when you hit me on the head with one," Vegeta retorted, tossing the pillows aside. He climbed onto the bed, on his hands and knees over her. "You need to be punished for your insolence, Woman."

Bulma shivered. "What do _you_ suggest?" she purred, stretching beneath him.

He growled. The blasted woman knew that aroused him. "I don't know," he purred in return. His lips turned up in a naughty smirk. "Maybe... a good night's sleep."

Bulma's face fell. That was not quite what she had expected him to say. "What?"

"Our son, his mate and their brat are two doors down and I already told them to go to bed. I'll screw you in the morning." Vegeta smirked at his mate and kicked off his jeans before sliding under the covers.

Now the look on Bulma's face was priceless. "I don't think so," she told him, grabbing a new pillow.

* * *

"Ganpa!"

Vegeta looked over his shoulder down at the boy toddling behind him. After some explanation from his parents, the child now understood who he and Bulma were, as well as 'baby Vegeta' being their little boy and Dr. and Mrs. Briefs being Bulma's mommy and daddy. Thus began yet another name in reference to him: _Grandpa._ "What is it, Boy?"

"Hi!" The child beamed brightly.

"Hi." Vegeta wasn't sure what else to say, especially considering that the boy had taken to following him around everywhere, seemingly fascinated by him. He had currently been following him for the past couple of hours. "What do you want?"

"Veeta hungee, Ganpa!"

While Vegeta had some difficulty understanding everything that the child said at times, this statement was clear as day. "You're hungry?"

"Uh-huh." The boy nodded.

Vegeta held back a sigh. _What do I feed a 'toddler'? No one said the boy would want to eat._ The old people were shopping, Anya and Geta had gone out on a 'date', as they called it, and Bulma had taken their son to a physician for infants for an examination. Why that was necessary was beyond him- after all, the child was Saiyan and in perfect health- but the woman had insisted that it was required. He, on the other hand, had somehow gotten roped into watching his grandson. Oddly enough, he wasn't entirely bothered by his current commission. "What do you want?" he repeated, unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Cookie!" the boy exclaimed. "Wanna yummy!"

Now, _this_ request he knew the answer to. "You cannot have just a cookie," Vegeta informed the boy. "I already got screeched at for that, thank you very much." He suppressed a shudder at the memory of two irritable females informing him that he couldn't give the boy nothing but cookies for lunch just because he asked for them, they didn't have any nutritional value, the child would get hyper, or maybe even sick, blah blah blah. One lecture was entirely more than sufficient.

The boy sat down heavily on the floor with a loud huff and began to pout, his arms crossed stubbornly.

"Well, don't look at me," Vegeta informed him. "If it was up to me, I'd just give you a beer and some chips."

"Huh?"

Vegeta snorted in amusement and picked his grandson up. "All right, Kid," he began, remembering the additional fuss the boy's mother had made the other day when Vegeta had used the word 'brat', "let's find something tasty to eat, hmm?"

"Yeah!" the boy agreed.

Vegeta carried his grandson into the kitchen and strapped him into his high chair. "Wait here, Child," he instructed, rummaging through the refrigerator in search of something suitable for a brat this age to eat.

"Gotta get yummy, Ganpa!" the boy called over to his grandfather.

"I'm looking, okay?" came the disgruntled reply. "Your mother and grandmother filled this thing with nothing but healthy sh-" Vegeta peered over at the boy listening to him intently and decided to revise his choice of verbiage. "Stuff."

"Oh..." The boy sighed impatiently.

"Tell me about it," Vegeta groused. Finding no other child-friendly alternative that he wanted to be bothered with, he pulled out some bread and jam and tossed them onto the counter, followed by peanut butter. "Ugh! I _hate_ peanut butter."

Little Vegeta licked his lips. He liked peanut butter. "Mmm, yummy!"

"Good, because that's what you're getting." Vegeta quickly made the sandwich and set it down in front of the boy, along with some juice. "Here."

The child looked at the sandwich and frowned. "Icky!"

Vegeta nearly reeled at the boy's declaration. "You just said it was yummy!"

The boy turned his face away from the sandwich. "Icky!"

Vegeta snorted. "That's all you're getting, Boy, so you may as well eat it."

"Don' wanna!" the child wailed piteously.

"Why not?"

"Is icky!"

"Why is it icky?" Vegeta was doing a remarkable job of not becoming angry at the child.

"Acause."

Vegeta felt relief rush over him when the kitchen door opened and Anya and Geta strolled in.

"Hi Pops! Hi baby boy!" Anya greeted them, dropping her purse on the counter.

"Hi Mama!" little Vegeta squealed.

"Hey, what have you got there, big guy?" Geta asked. "Did Grandpa make you a sandwich?"

"Uh-huh." The boy nodded vigorously. "Is_ icky_," he added solemnly.

Vegeta was about to finally lose his cool when Geta picked up the knife he'd used on the sandwich and trimmed off the crusts, then cut up the remaining sandwich into little fingers.

"There you go, Champ." Geta almost popped the crusts into his own mouth until he realized that the sandwich was peanut butter. It was a shame he was allergic to peanuts; he too _loved_ peanut butter. Besides, waste not, want not. He'd learned that lesson well.

"Fank you!" The little boy ate his sandwich, his legs swinging contentedly. "Yummy!"

"_Un_-friggin' believable," Vegeta grumbled, shaking his head. "You're a picky little kid, you know that?" He didn't know how a kid who'd so often had little to eat could be so picky. The child probably had no concept of the fact that his father had frequently gone without just so he and his mother had something to eat.

Anya giggled at her father-in-law's reaction. "He hates the crusts. It wasn't the sandwich that was icky, just the crusts."

"Hmph." Vegeta crossed his arms and watched the boy eat.

"Oh, Pops! We went to this Mexican place that was just excellent," Anya exclaimed. "You should take Bulma there sometime."

"It was deee-lish," Geta agreed. "Good refried beans, and really good salsa. Mother is a huge fan of both."

A red flag raced up in Vegeta's brain at the word _beans_. The woman had made fun of him the last time he'd eaten the foul little legumes, and he'd be damned if he ate any bean again, unless it was a senzu bean, that is. "I hate beans."

"That's a shame, because they were quite good." Anya tore a paper towel off of the roll by the sink and wet it.

"No! No wipe, Mama-"

The child's pleas were in vain as Anya began to wipe her sticky son clean. "I swear, you get more food on you than in you, Vegeta," she murmured.

The boy began to whine.

"Oh, hush now. You aren't melting." Anya noted that her son had stopped whimpering and followed his irritated scowl. Vegeta was smirking at the scene before him, obviously amused. "Pops, you're just being mean. How would you like it if _you_ were strapped into a chair and I was wiping you clean?"

Vegeta's smirk widened. "Let your mother-in-law do it and I'd like it just fine." Bulma had recently introduced him to some new types of 'toys'. He hadn't thought he'd ever go for being restrained, but the little temptress had made him decide otherwise.

Anya blushed. "Pops!"

The door opened again and Bulma entered, VJ in her arms. "Hi everyone!" Her eyebrow rose; Anya was a rather lovely shade of pink. "Did I miss something here?"

"Oh nothing, except for the fact that Pops has a dirty mind," Anya responded matter-of-factly.

"What's your point?" Bulma winked at her mate and held out their son. "Here, take him so I can get something to eat."

Vegeta grunted and leaned back against the counter. "What makes you think I'm not hungry?"

"Oh, you were going to make us something? How sweet," Bulma purred, knowing that wasn't his intention in the slightest.

Vegeta scowled at her and grabbed the child from her arms. "What am I, these infants' nanny?" he complained.

"No, you Ganpa," little Vegeta reminded him. The little boy giggled as the adults in the room laughed.

Even Vegeta's lips curled up a little. "Sure, Kid. Now tell Grandma that she needs to get Grandpa some food."

"Cookie!" the boy squealed. "Wanna cookie!"

"You just had a yummy sandwich, little mister," Geta told his son. "If you're good for the rest of the day, you can have one after dinner."

"Okay," the boy agreed reluctantly.

Bulma chuckled. "Did you two eat while you were out or did you want a snack too?" she asked, pulling some leftover chicken from the refrigerator.

"We had Mexican," Anya responded. "It was really good."

"Where did you go?" Bulma began to make sandwiches.

"Some place called Pedro's," Geta told her. "It was voted number one in the metropolitan Western Capital area on the Internet, and Gramps said it was good."

Bulma nodded as she licked some mayonnaise from her fingers. "Vote for Pedro!" She giggled but her joke was short-lived when all she got was a room full of blank stares; evidently they hadn't seen that particular movie. "Their chimichangas are awesome, and their beans are the best around." She paused when Anya began to giggle. "What?"

"I hate beans," Geta said in his best Vegeta imitation, shooting a look his father's way.

"Ahhh..." Bulma smiled, remembering the soup her mother had made.

Vegeta gave her a look that clearly meant Keep Your Mouth Shut Woman. "Is my food ready yet?"

"Yes, here you go." Bulma pushed a plate with two sandwiches on it toward him.

Vegeta leaned forward to grab the plate and paused when VJ whimpered. "What is the matter with you?"

"Oh, he had some immunizations at the doctor's office, so his leg is a little sore," Bulma responded. "He'll be fine."

"Immunizations?" Vegeta frowned. "Whatever for?" What were these human doctors injecting into his son?

"Oh, you know. Basic childhood illnesses. I wrote them down so I could record it in his baby book." Bulma grabbed her purse to find the paper. "Let's see here..."

"No more shots," Vegeta told her sternly.

Bulma looked up from her purse, surprised to see that he actually looked distressed. "Vegeta, it's just precautionary. All children get shots, starting when they're babies. They have to before they can even go to school."

Vegeta shook his head. "My son will not receive any more of these immunizations," he repeated stubbornly. "I forbid it."

It was obvious that something about the very thought of their baby receiving immunizations was disturbing to him. He probably didn't even realize how protectively he held the child. "Okay, we'll talk about this later," Bulma told him quietly. "For now, I'll take him so you can eat your snack."

"The boy is fine," Vegeta informed her, not making any effort to relinquish his hold on his son.

"All right, no problem." Bulma couldn't help but wonder what it was bothering her mate.

The door opened for the third time, breaking the awkward silence in the room. "Hello, everyone!" Mrs. Briefs sang cheerily. "You won't believe what a beautiful ham I found to cook for dinner."

"Would you like some help with dinner, Bunny?" Anya offered.

"Oh, but that would be wonderful, Dear," Mrs. Briefs accepted gratefully. "We'll have salad and rolls, and sweet potato casserole, baked beans, and apple pie." She giggled when she heard Vegeta's stomach growl. "Does that sound good to you, Vegeta?"

_Baked beans. Damn!_ "It sounds just fine," he responded, resigned that he would either have to eat the beans or have everyone wonder why he didn't 'like' them. There hadn't been anything yet that he'd said he hadn't liked. "I'm going to train before dinner." He gave VJ to Mrs. Briefs, grabbed the remainder of his snack, and left.

Mrs. Briefs frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Bulma shrugged. "I took VJ to get his latest shots, and when Vegeta found out about it, for some reason he got upset."

"Think about it, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "Who knows what odd things he went through as a child?"

"But... But, he's not afraid of needles," Bulma stammered.

"Just have a little talk with him later, Dear," Mrs. Briefs suggested. "I'm sure your father is probably right."

Bulma nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to him later, when he's not so upset."

_

* * *

_

Stupid physicians, injecting my son with whatever drugs they have concocted to prevent illness in human infants.

Vegeta growled, firing another ki blast at the bot targeting him at his left. _It's probably the reason why Geta has so many human ailments, because of all of these poisons he was given as a brat._

The bot circled around him, and another one took its place, firing at Vegeta as it determined that his attention had been adequately averted.

"Damn it!" Vegeta cursed as the bot's laser singed his shoulder, irritated at himself for falling for such an obvious trick. He was distracted, both by his son and by the boy's mother. Why would she have subjected her own offspring to such treatment? He knew why- it was because she cared for the boy's well-being and had deemed it to be in his best interest. "She could have at least consulted me first," he muttered, leaping backward to avoid a shot from a third bot. He sighed. He was horribly distracted and deriving absolutely no benefit out of this training session. Thoughts of not only his son's situation but especially of the boy's mother permeated his mind. He'd almost received a laser between the eyes earlier when thoughts of her voluptuous body and pouty lips had invaded his thoughts. He needed to be harder on himself. "Computer, increase gravity level by an additional 150 G."

_Warning: gravitational overload probable at requested level_ the computerized voice responded.

"Computer, adjust the gravity level to-" Vegeta stopped mid-command as his keen ears detected a buzzing noise that he was quite familiar with- the sound the bots made when generating ki energy from their reserves rather than using laser beams. He looked up, his eyes widening. A fourth bot loomed overhead. Having calculated that laser beams had proven ineffective against its living foe, this bot had decided to kick its attack up a notch. How had it gotten so close without him noticing?

The bot fired at close range, forcing Vegeta to quickly counter-fire with a ki blast of its own.

_Warning: pod energy levels now exceed-_

* * *

"Bulma! You simply must try these pastries your father and I bought today," Mrs. Briefs said excitedly. "They're absolutely delicious." She set the box from the bakery on the kitchen table.

"Okay, thanks..." Bulma ignored the pastries and got up from the table to peer through the kitchen window. Something niggled at the back of her mind. Something just wasn't right. She frowned.

"Pumpkin, are you all right?" Dr. Briefs asked, concern coloring his voice. His daughter was severely distracted, and she absently scratched at the side of her neck. "Bulma?"

* * *

"No sleepies, Mama."

Anya chuckled when her son was unable to contain a yawn and laid him on the bed. "Yes, you are. Now, take a nap for a little while, okay?"

Before either of them could say anything else, the house shook violently, almost sending her to the floor. "Geta!" Anya screamed, terrified. She couldn't help it; it was too similar to situations they'd experienced while running from the androids.

"Coming! I'm coming!" The door of the private bathroom opened, Geta nearly stumbling over his pant legs in his haste to get out. "What the hell was that?" he exclaimed as he hurriedly finished pulling on his jeans.

"Language! I don't know!" Anya responded, sitting down on the bed and scooping up their now wailing son. "Shh, it's okay, baby boy..." She looked up to her husband, her green eyes shining with tears.

"I'll see what I can find out. Stay here for now, okay?" Geta placed two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.

* * *

"Bulma?"

Bulma leaned closer to the window. "Vegeta," she whispered.

It was at that moment that the GR exploded, shaking the facilities and shattering nearby windows. Bulma screamed as she was thrown back, not even feeling the shards of glass from the window embedding themselves into her flesh. "Oh Kami! _Vegeta!_" she screamed, hauling herself up from the floor. "No no no, Vegeta!" She flung open the kitchen door and ran outside, not bothering to put on her shoes.

"Bulma, wait!" Dr. Briefs called after her, knowing she would only hurt herself, but she paid him no heed. He picked up the phone and was about to dial when Geta appeared beside him. "Geta, thank goodness!"

Geta was staring out the still open door, his eyes wide from shock. "Oh, no... Father!" He flew after his mother.

Tears streamed down Bulma's face as she hefted a piece of hot metal from the remains of the GR and dragged it aside. "Vegeta," she whimpered. "Please be all right."

"Mother, wait! You'll only hurt yourself," Geta exclaimed as he reached the GR, astonished by the sight of his petite and delicate mother moving objects much heavier than she'd normally be able to lift in her attempts to reach his father. _Amazing what adrenaline and love can help you do._

"H-he's buried in the rubble," Bulma sobbed. "Help me get him out!"

Geta winced when he saw the cuts and burns on her hands- the bottoms of her bare feet couldn't be faring much better- as well as random shards of glass embedded in her face and arms. "Mother, please step back and let me get him out, okay?"

Bulma was about to reply when one of Vegeta's hands broke through the rubble. She shrieked in startlement and fell backwards, only to be caught by her son. "Geta, he's all right! I just knew that he was all right."

Geta nodded and set her aright on her feet. "Mother, why don't you go prep the regeneration tank for me-"

"No," Bulma interrupted stubbornly. "I'm not leaving without him."

Geta suppressed a sigh. "All right, Mother. Just stay back please." He hauled a few more larger pieces away and took hold of Vegeta's arm in an effort to pull him upright.

"I... I don't need... any help," Vegeta rasped. He stood up under his own power but fell again when one of his legs gave way.

"Come on, let's get the two of you cleaned up." Geta picked up his unconscious father. "Put your hand on my arm, Mother." With a little bit of shifting, he was able to touch his fingers to his forehead again.

* * *

"Ganpa sickies?"

Geta nodded, struggling to remain unaffected by the tears in his son's eyes. It was obvious that the boy had already become quite fond of his grandfather. "Grandpa had an accident in the GR, but a machine Grandma and Gramps built is helping him get better. He'll be fine, okay?"

Vegeta looked over to Dr. Briefs, who smiled and nodded to the boy. "Your Grandpa is sleeping right now. When he feels better, he'll wake up." It was difficult being so nonchalant; Vegeta would almost certainly have died if they had not devoted the past week to perfecting the tank and the miraculous fluid which even now was healing him. It had even proved effective with use by humans, and had healed a pretty bad chemical burn one of the technicians had sustained in the lab.

Little Vegeta sniffled. "Okay," he conceded. "Where Gamma?"

"She had some owies too, so she's resting," Anya provided. They had removed the glass which had struck Bulma and had cleaned up her hands and feet, after which they'd wrapped her hands and feet in bandages soaked with regeneration fluid. The worst of her other wounds had received the same treatment.

"Oh." The boy digested this. "Baby okay?"

Anya smiled, pleased that her son had thought of his little sort-of uncle. "Yes, baby Vegeta was just scared, that's all. Gram has him."

"Okay." The boy sighed and snuggled down against his mother, his thumb in his mouth.

Mrs. Briefs came into the kitchen. "I managed to get VJ to go down, and the sedative you gave Bulma finally took effect." She collapsed into a chair at the table and wiped at her eyes with a tissue. "What a horrible thing to happen."

Geta rubbed his grandmother's shoulders gently. "It'll be all right, Gram. Father's vitals stabilized as soon as we got him into the tank, and it appears that little surface cuts are already healing nicely. It'll just take time, that's all."

Mrs. Briefs nodded and sniffled. "He's such a dear man, your father, and he seemed so upset before he left." She looked up to her husband. "You don't think he did something foolish because he was upset, do you? Why would he bring harm to himself and ruin his training room because VJ got some shots?"

"I doubt that was the case," Dr. Briefs assured her. "Don't worry, I'll discuss this with him in depth once he's healthy. I don't want something like this happening again." He ran a hand over his face.

The room was quiet for a moment. "Now what?" Anya asked quietly.

"No offense, Gram, but I'm not really hungry any more," Geta murmured. "It smells delicious, though."

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "That's all right, Dear. I'll just put it in the refrigerator and we'll eat it later." She dabbed at her eyes again.

* * *

Dr. Briefs tossed down his science journal. He just couldn't concentrate on it. His daughter's scream of anguish kept echoing through his mind. He'd checked on both her and Vegeta, and both of them seemed to be healing nicely. He just couldn't focus on anything. He looked over to his wife, who had worried herself into exhaustion and fallen asleep on the couch beside him.

Geta sat on the loveseat, his arm around Anya and their son asleep on their laps. He caught his grandfather's eye and made himself smile reassuringly. "Mother is awake."

"Oh. I should go check on her," Dr. Briefs mused.

Geta paused, then sighed. "Don't bother. Her ki is headed this way." He paused again. "Or, it _was_, anyway."

"I guess we don't need to ask where she's going," Anya commented.

"Nope. Straight to the medical lab."

"I'll go talk to her." Dr. Briefs got up, careful not to disturb his sleeping wife.

* * *

"You're awake."

Bulma turned to face her father. "Hey," she greeted him in a shaky voice. It wasn't difficult to know what was on her mind.

"Bulma, you shouldn't be up," Dr. Briefs chastised gently. "You need to rest."

"Most of my wounds are healed," Bulma objected. "I- I just wanted to see if he was okay." She turned back to the tank that held her mate and gazed inside, her fingertips resting on the glass.

Dr. Briefs laid a hand upon her shoulder. "I expect he'll make a full recovery, Bulma. Look, his surface cuts and bruises are all but healed even after only a few hours, and I set the broken bone in his leg." He chuckled. "He's a stubborn one, that boy." He patted Bulma's shoulder consolingly when she began to cry. "Don't cry, Pumpkin. He'll be just fine."

"I know." Bulma wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I just..."

"No need to explain. You love him, and you're concerned for him." Dr. Briefs had previously had some serious doubts about his daughter's relationship with the brooding Saiyan, but the more he saw of them together, as well as of Vegeta's gradually increasing interest in his son, the more comfortable he felt about it. Vegeta might not say so, but it was evident by some of the things he said and did that he cared about Bulma and their son.

Bulma gave him a shaky little smile. "I love him so much, Daddy. Even when he's cranky." A little giggle escaped.

The doctor patted her shoulder again. "I'm glad you're feeling a little better, Pumpkin. Why don't you come sit with us for a while? Everyone is worried about you."

Bulma shook her head. "No, I want to stay with Vegeta," she insisted. "Just bring VJ here when he wakes up and I'll feed him."

"Are you sure?" Dr. Briefs asked hesitantly. "It won't be today. He probably won't wake up until sometime tomorrow morning. Maybe you should get something to eat and some sleep."

"No, I want to stay here," Bulma objected stubbornly. "I can set up a cot if I want to sleep."

There was no arguing with Bulma when she got an idea in her head. "Very well," Dr. Briefs relented. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Daddy." Bulma stood up to hug her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

Vegeta opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented by the mask over his mouth and nose and the murky blue fluid surrounding him. _I'm in the woman's regeneration tank!_ He looked around the lab, his eyes settling on the chair nearby where Bulma was asleep. Had she sat there all night?

He tested his leg and, finding it completely healed, decided that it was time to get out of the tank. He tapped on the glass.

Bulma shifted on the chair but stayed asleep.

:Woman, wake up.: Vegeta tapped on the glass again. He would have to ask Bulma about incorporating a release that would let him out from the inside. :Bulma!:

Bulma drew in a deep breath as she woke and opened her eyes. Vegeta was awake and staring intently at her, his hands resting on the glass. "Vegeta!" she exclaimed, jumping up from the chair. Her eyes teared up; he was awake and looked infinitely better than he had the day before. "You're awake! How do you feel?"

:I'm fine, Woman. Now stop crying and let me out of here.: Vegeta's mental voice didn't sound angry or irritated by her tears, but actually somewhat soothing.

:Your leg is healed?: Bulma pressed a button to drain the healing fluid from the tank.

:It appears to be. There is no pain.:

:That's great, Veg.: Bulma fidgeted and tapped her foot impatiently. "C'mon, hurry up," she grumbled.

Vegeta was watching her with amusement. :Can't wait to get some hot stuff, hmm?:

Bulma eyed him irritably. :Someone's a little full of himself. And don't say what I know you're thinking.: She waved her finger at him in warning.

Vegeta smirked at her. Damn, but she was hot when she got mad!

Finally the fluid finished draining and she opened the tank. "Okay, let's get all of this stuff off of you," she told him, taking the mask, which he'd already removed, from him before starting on the electrodes monitoring his vitals.

"Why are your hands shaking?" Vegeta asked.

He was right; her hands were indeed shaking. "Vegeta, you could have died if we hadn't had this tank. I love you. The thought of losing you is painful to me."

"Hmph." The grunt he let out didn't sound irritated or sarcastic, but thoughtful.

Bulma piled the wires onto a nearby workstation. "Vegeta, how can you be so apathetic about this? I pour my heart out to you and you shrug it off?"

Vegeta sighed. "Woman..."

"And what's more, you could have blown up the house!" Bulma continued. "Then what?"

Her statement made him think; what _would_ he have done? How _would_ he have felt? His entire family had been inside that house.

Wait. What the hell had he just thought?

The sudden realization of how he'd labeled everyone in the house- and what that translated into what they meant to him- startled him. "Well, I didn't blow up your damn house," Vegeta retorted angrily, irritated at himself and his weak emotional ties to these humans. "Never fear, your precious belongings are safe."

"Vegeta, that's not what I meant!" Bulma exclaimed, reaching for him as he turned away. "Please, let's just start over." Knowing that there was no force that could turn him back around unless he wanted to be moved, she stepped around him to face him. "I'm sorry that what I said didn't come out the way I wanted it to. Please look at me," she pleaded, taking his hands. "Vegeta..."

"What?" he growled irritably.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I love you. I'm so happy that you're healed, and that I had a part in building this machine that helped make it possible."

Vegeta looked down at her when he heard her sniffle. "I told you to stop crying." His voice was gruff but he reached up to smooth a tear away from her cheek. "You are not a weak woman. Quit behaving in such a weak fashion."

Bulma's face fell. "There's nothing weak about caring about people who are important to you, Vegeta. I wish I could help you to see that." She reached up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad you're better. Let's get you a shower and something to eat."

"Whatever." Vegeta turned on his heel and headed for the nearby bathroom.

Bulma bit her lip. Why was he being so cold to her? "I'll get you some clean clothes," she murmured.

"No." Vegeta's voice was stern. "Come here."

Bulma found herself a little confused but did as he asked. "What is it?"

Vegeta turned on the shower as she approached.

"Vegeta? Oh!" Bulma suddenly found herself up against the wall, the Saiyan prince's hands on either side of her and his lips on her neck.

"Shut up and get those damn clothes off," he growled against her neck. "Show me what you meant when you said you love me."

Rather than become offended by his demand, Bulma indulged him, realizing that whatever was bothering him went far deeper than she'd thought. "Slow down, Lover," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist, "and I'll show you."

* * *

Bulma laid on Vegeta's chest, listening to his heart beating. "Vegeta?" Her fingers ran lazily over his skin.

"Hn?" Vegeta shivered slightly and grabbed her hand. She'd done that on purpose, the little wench; he'd felt her lips turn up in a smile at his reaction.

"Can you tell me what happened? I want to be sure that it doesn't happen again." She kissed his chest and curled up closer against him.

Vegeta knew she was fishing for more than just technical details but stuck to those for the time being. "I put the gravity up to the maximum level," he began. "The computer warned me that the energy level was too high, but before I could readjust it, a bot moved in without my notice and fired a ki shot at me from close range. I was forced to return fire, and the next thing I remember was hearing you trying to dig me out." He realized that he'd been stroking her hair and stopped, placing his hand on the bed.

_He didn't notice the bot? He must have been really distracted._ "But, what happened? Did something distract you?"

Vegeta inhaled deeply. There was no way he'd admit to her that thoughts of not only the boy but especially of Bulma herself had indeed distracted him. "I was thinking about the boy," he murmured. "It occurred to me that perhaps Geta has the ailments he does because of the shots he received as a brat. His constitution is not the same as a human brat's. While it may be beneficial for human brats to receive such treatments, it may not be appropriate medicine for Saiyan brats." He shifted against his pillow. "Trust me."

Bulma lifted herself onto one elbow to look at him, her eyes wide and face pale. "Oh... Oh Vegeta, you don't think..." Had she truly harmed her son by giving him immunizations meant for humans? "Did I...?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't know, Woman. But I do know that Frieza beating the insolence out of me on a regular basis is not the sole reason that I did not attain my full height." This he said with embarrassment in his voice. "Both of my parents were tall, statuesque individuals. Consequently, I should be at least as tall as our son is."

Tears trickled down Bulma's cheeks. "Good Kami, Vegeta. Are you saying...?"

Vegeta frowned. "I only mentioned it because of the boy's welfare," he informed her. "I do not wish to discuss the subject further." He didn't feel like talking about how Frieza would starve him for days on end then feed him tainted food, or force injections on him. This was done simply to see what would happen or in attempts to control him and further mold him into the psychotic butcher he'd become. If something bad happened to the prince it would be no big deal. He was expendable, and there were plenty of other soldiers more than ready to take his spot. The only thing that Frieza would lose would be his favorite playtoy. How had the disgusting lizard himself always put it? _Deliciously fun._

Bulma couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mate's mind, especially when he was unable to fully suppress a shudder, but kept her mouth shut on the subject. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. For what happened to you, and for not mentioning the treatments for our son." She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I'll look into whatever VJ was given, and make sure he doesn't get anything that would harm him." She sniffled miserably. "Oh, I hope I haven't hurt our baby."

Vegeta sat up to look at her. "Bulma, stop crying. I'm sure the boy will be fine."

"Okay." Bulma nodded and reached up to cup his cheek.

The woman was respecting his wishes and not discussing what he had brought up, but Vegeta could see the sorrow in her eyes. He sighed. "Nothing Frieza did can be reversed, so there is no point in dwelling on the past," he told her in a low voice. He took her hand and held it in his own. "I do not want you to be needlessly troubled about something that cannot be changed."

Bulma knew that Vegeta's pride had taken a blow by telling her what he had, so she merely shifted on the bed to curl up against him. "All right," she whispered, although she couldn't help but worry. He had so many deep dark secrets, and if she was to hear anything else of his past she knew she couldn't pry it out of him. She would simply have to wait for him to open up to her again.

The medical lab was quiet for a moment until his stomach growled noisily. Bulma giggled. "Let's get you something to eat."

* * *

"Can I get you anything else, Dear? You poor hungry man." Mrs. Briefs placed some more ham and sweet potatoes onto Vegeta's plate.

He nodded and indicated his glass, his mouth still full.

"Oh my, I forgot. I'm sorry, Dear." Mrs. Briefs hurried to pour him some iced tea. "Would you like me to make some coffee?"

Vegeta's eyes fell upon his mate, who sat across from him at the table. Her half-eaten slice of pie sat on the table; she was so bothered by what their discussion that she had not finished. "That would be wonderful, and I'm sure Bulma would like some too. Thank you," he responded politely.

"You're so welcome, Dear. I'll make a fresh pot right away." Mrs. Briefs bustled away, humming happily to herself. Such a lovely young man he was!

Vegeta was pleased by himself. His tactic had worked, leaving Bulma to all but gape at him in astonishment. "What's the matter with you, Woman? Desist in staring at me and eat your food."

A slow smile spread over Bulma's face. "You bastard," she muttered. He'd done it on purpose, to distract her. She stood up from her seat and brought her pie to the other side of the table, then wedged herself between him and the table.

"What are you doing?" he demanded irritably. "I am trying to eat here, you insane woman!"

Bulma perched herself upon his lap. "I know." She took another bite of pie and snuggled up against his shoulder.

He shrugged against her, but she refused to move. "You really are crazy."

"Mmm-hmm. Your fault." Bulma snaked her arm around him and kissed his neck, letting her tongue flick out to lick his bite scar. She giggled when he jumped. Oh- that reminded her. She'd noticed just the other day that Anya and Geta suddenly sported marks of their own, and she wanted to talk to Anya about her feelings on it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Vegeta grabbed her and kissed her soundly, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The damn woman always knew how to work him up.

Mrs. Briefs came back into the kitchen to get the coffee, having left while it was brewing. "Oh! Oh, my," she murmured, a giggle escaping her lips. It was so nice to see that Vegeta was feeling better. He was such a lovely young man. She left the kitchen, not wanting to interrupt them.

Ah, yes... the way things were going, they would be such beautiful grandchildren. She was sure of it.

* * *

:Okay... do you have a fix on me?:

There was a pause. :All right, I found you again.:

:And you remember how I explained it works?:

:Yes...:

:Well then, try it again. Come on over here, sweet thing.:

:I'll try.: She bit her lip, concentrating on his ki.

Geta grinned. His wife's forehead was wrinkled in concentration and her eyes were shut tight. "Open your eyes, Baby." He laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh!" Anya exclaimed, jumping at his touch. Her eyes flew open. She was no longer alone in the yard at Capsule Corp.

She was standing in the middle of the desert, alongside her husband.

Geta beamed proudly. "Hey there, Sweetheart."

"I did it! I really did it!" Anya exclaimed. She leapt up to throw her arms around his neck and commenced jumping up and down in her excitement.

"Yes you did, and I'm very proud of you," Geta commended his wife. He drew her into a hug. "See? You were just trying too hard, that's all."

She leaned into his gentle embrace. "This is as cool as when I made my first ki ball!"

Geta chuckled at the recollection. "At least you didn't blow anything up this time," he teased good naturedly.

"Hmph." Anya pretended to pout, but was forced to giggle at the memory herself.

"You sound just like Father. Well, minus the giggle, anyway," Geta added the last statement thoughtfully.

Anya pulled away to look at him. "Yes, and I _told_ you he liked me," she bragged. "I've been here what, two weeks? And it hardly took any time for him to warm up to me."

Geta smiled at his exuberant wife. "What's not to like?" he asked in a husky voice. His tail wrapped around her waist, drawing her close again.

She sighed in contentment, watching as the sun began its journey beneath the horizon to usher in the night. "I love you, Geta," she whispered.

He placed a kiss on top of her head. "I love you too, Anya," he whispered back.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: While this chapter will include a little character development for Anya before getting back to the story, I do want to address a concern of one reader that I have been concentrating quite a bit on my own original characters rather than focusing on Bulma and Vegeta. Don't worry; this is and will remain a Bulma and Vegeta story. The purpose of all of the original character development is that (as you are all aware from reading my story summary) Bulma and Vegeta will experience some serious problems in their relationship, and once the most important person in Vegeta's life- Bulma- is gone, Vegeta realizes just how important the rest of his family has become to him. Bulma is lost to him, his pride is gone; they are all he has left to cling to. So while Bulma and Vegeta will continue to be the main characters of this story, Anya, Geta, and little Vegeta will become important secondary characters. They require and deserve a little background development. Besides, what they have to tell will directly affect future events.

Another concern was all of the Vegetas in the story becoming confusing. I realize that, but it was never done to be confusing. It happened because both mothers (Bulma and Anya) respected family tradition enough to carry it on; as a result, both named their sons Vegeta. I already have the nicknames Geta and VJ (as well as Pops, strictly for Anya's amusement). If anyone has an idea for Anya and Geta's little boy, I am open to suggestions! :) Drop me an e-mail with your idea or leave it in a review.

One final concern was what about Trunks? Don't forget that most of what has already taken place here happened _before_ the famous three-year period where Bulma and Vegeta got together in the canon, and Trunks was born roughly a year before the androids arrived. Since it will still be close to three years before they show up, Trunks couldn't be a part of the story for two more years. Obviously, given what I have already stated, the possibility of Trunks existing in this story is dependent upon whether or not Vegeta can repair the damage he causes to his relationship with Bulma.

Whew! That's all I can say about that right now without spilling _too_ too many details. Stay tuned!

I hope this explanation helps anyone who had any concerns over the direction of this story. At the very least, I do thank each and every one of you readers out there who gave this story a try. It's going to be a long and difficult journey for our favorite couple, but I hope that you'll all stick around for the entire ride.

I also want to thank everyone who has left me a review. I appreciate them so much. Please leave a review and give me your thoughts on this story. It only takes a minute and receiving them really does help us writers to continue on. It may sound silly or even stupid to someone who does not write, but it hardly seems worth writing if no one tells me what they think! There is so much more to this story to be told. If you are reading this and intend to continue doing so, it must be worth thirty seconds of your time to let me know that, right?

Last but not least, many thanks to my wonderful husband for his input on this chapter when I hit a rough point. It was his assistance and advice that helped get me over the hump holding me back.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

Chapter Twelve

He let out a grunt of pain as the fist slammed into his face, trying to focus past the resulting blood that trickled down his face. He got back up to his feet, swaying visibly. "W-wait... Could we please talk about this?"

His aggressor chuckled coldly. "There's nothing to discuss, you moronic third-class waste of space," came the snarled response. His foot slammed into the bleeding man's stomach, sending him hurtling into a large boulder. "I am your superior, in every way. You _will_ bow to me, and if you refuse, I _will_ destroy you. How is this a difficult concept to understand, even for an imbecile such as yourself?"

The woman ran over to him, adoration glowing in her large blue eyes. "By the gods, you're incredible," she intoned breathily, stepping close to him and resting herself against his chest submissively. "I couldn't ask for a more _perfect_ man." She fairly quivered with delight in his arms as her eyes rose to meet his, and a sultry smile played indecently upon her lips, leaving no doubt whatsoever in his mind as to what it was she craved from him.

Moaning in pain, the other man staggered to his knees, blood steadily welling from numerous cuts on his face and body. "Please forgive me, my Lord," he pleaded, prostrating his trembling form at his conqueror's feet. "I live only to serve you."

He was answered by another cruel laugh. "So, you have finally learned your place, peon."

"We're going now, Dear."

"Now, get up before I-" He was interrupted by a quick kiss on his cheek. "What?"

Mrs. Briefs giggled at the startled expression on the Saiyan prince's face. "We're going now, Dear," she repeated gaily. "Bulma is already in the lab, and Geta took Anya to play in your gravity thing outside." She waved and hurried after her husband. "Bye now!"

Vegeta shook his head to clear it. "Damn it," he growled, very well aware of the blush gracing his cheeks. He'd been daydreaming about bringing his rival Saiyan to his knees- he'd even been a Super Saiyan in the vision, while Kakarrot had not- and the insane female had snuck up on him and startled him out of his reverie by placing a kiss on his cheek. It seemed that she got a kick out of doing it, for she never hesitated to show affection and giggled at his reaction whenever she succeeded. His reaction remained the same as it always was- a disgusting display of embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink. It was 'cute', or so she claimed, when he blushed. The fool woman would soon learn how very much he was _not_ cute! Yet, he could never bring himself to even chastise her; he merely sat there speechless and embarrassed as she giggled and patted his cheek, his shoulder, his arm, whatever. Perhaps it was because she sometimes fed him afterwards. Perhaps he didn't want to deal with his woman throwing an angry tirade at him for upsetting her mother. Perhaps...

He shook his head. It was becoming more and more evident how truly _weak_ he'd become while living amongst these humans. His woman was obviously very aware of how susceptible he'd become to her large blue eyes, her soft curves, the way her hands and lips felt on his naked body. She invaded his thoughts constantly; even while training he couldn't rid himself of thinking about going into the house and doing all sorts of pleasurable things to her delectable body, listening to her moans and sighs as he did so, reveling in the satisfaction his own body derived. The thoughts distracted him even to the point of causing him injury while training, as they had when he'd destroyed the first GR.

"Damn it," he repeated, getting up from his seat. It appeared that he wouldn't even get breakfast this morning. He'd have to cook for himself.

* * *

"Wouldn't you have more fun and get more out of your training if you had a partner, hmm?"

Geta read his wife's tone of voice perfectly. "Anya, I don't know. If I hurt you, I'd never forgive myself." He had miraculously gotten her and their son back, safe and sound, and hated to leave her side. What would he do if he harmed her? How would he even begin to deal with that? The very thought of a scratch or bruise on his wife because of his own actions greatly disturbed him.

"Come on," Anya urged him. "I've got an itch for it." She levitated into the air and hovered in front of him at his level, landing a little jab on his shoulder.

"Tell you what. I'll let you practice by trying to block whatever you throw at me. It'll actually be good practice for me, too. But I _won't_ hit back," Geta insisted.

"All right," she agreed. It was better than him simply saying 'no'. She began throwing punches and kicks at him at an increasingly faster pace.

"C'mon Baby," Geta teased. "Aren't you done warming up yet?" He chuckled when her jaw tightened in annoyance.

"Very well, Dear," Anya replied, flicking a ki ball off of her fingertips that sent him falling to the floor.

Geta picked himself up and dusted off his backside. "_That's _my girl. Nice shot there. I wasn't expecting that." He grinned broadly. The strength training exercise they'd originally come in to program could wait. "How about tossing in a few G's?"

Anya set down on the floor of the GR and shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

Vegeta flew in the direction of the GR, intending to retrieve his son. He'd managed to get both brats to go back to sleep, and it was time for Geta to mind them and for _him_ to do some training. He noted that the GR was active because of the red light glowing from the windows, but he hadn't seen any flickers of light that accompanied ki blasts. _He must be strength training,_ he mused, peering in a window.

What he saw blew his mind. Gaping, he watched as his daughter-in-law delivered a rapid fire of kicks and punches at his son in quick succession, actually managing to land a couple of them. _How in the hell is she doing this? Why have I never sensed her use her ki before? For that matter, where _is_ it, when Geta's is so strong? It's practically nonexistent!_ His astonished expression turned into one of amusement when she landed the heel of one hand in Geta's face, causing him to yelp in surprise and put his hands over his face as blood spurted from his nose.

"Oh! Honey, I'm sorry!" Anya exclaimed, rushing over to her husband. "Let me see it."

"I'm okay, Anya," he told her, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. It would only take a minute before his Saiyan genes healed the damage. "I'm actually _proud_ that you managed to break my nose. What a tough cookie I married."

Anya giggled and was about to respond when there was a knock at the door. She and Geta exchanged a look; both of them could sense who was at the other side.

"Have you told Father how well you can use ki yet?" Geta asked cheerfully.

"No, I figured you would have when you told him about me. I forgot all about it!" Anya told him, wide-eyed.

"It's okay. We'll just tell him. He'll think it's pretty cool. No big deal. Computer, end program," Geta commanded, not noticing her skeptical look. The GR powered down, returning the gravity to normal. He looked at Anya one more time before opening the door. _She looks nervous. I wonder why?_ "Hello, Father."

Vegeta scoffed at his son. "Nice bloody nose you've got there." He peered past Geta and into the room. "Move," he ordered with a sideways jerk of his head, stepping past him.

"Hmph. Won't you come on in?" Geta asked sarcastically.

"Hey, Pops," Anya greeted him.

"Anya." Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "I saw you through the window. That's pretty impressive for a female, especially a human female. How did you manage with the gravity on?"

I knew he'd find out sooner or later. I just wish it wouldn't have to be this way. And Geta's going to be irritated at me too. "Beg your pardon?"

"I said that's pretty impressive for a human female," Vegeta repeated.

"Thanks, but I think there's a little misunderstanding going on here," Anya responded.

Vegeta frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean my errant husband here neglected to _formally_ introduce us, so I assumed he had told you about my background."

"Huh?" Geta looked up from the GR's central computer, where he'd been programming the strength training session.

"It never occurred to me to bring it up myself, since it never seemed to make a difference to you," Anya continued in a calm voice. _I will not apologize for who I am, nor will I feel embarrassment because of it. After all, his greatest pride is being the Prince of all _Saiyans_._

"What are you talking about, Anya? I told Mother and Father all about you." Geta looked hurt by her implication.

Anya walked over to Geta and took his hand in hers in a loving gesture. "I only meant that you missed a teeny-tiny detail that wasn't a big deal to you so you never thought to bring it up." She turned to Vegeta. "I'm saying I'm almost as human as _you_ are, Pops."

"What? You're not human?" Vegeta asked in surprise.

Geta chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. I _did_ kind of neglect to tell you that. But it's like Anya said, it never made a difference to me, so I kind of just forgot. Just like it never made a difference to Anya that we were of different species, right Sweetheart?" He smiled tenderly at his wife. "I just saw this beautiful woman and that was the end of it for me."

"Honey, I'm sorry... I never wanted to hurt you," Anya whispered, "which is why I never gave you _all_ of the details about who I am." She let go of her confused husband's hand after giving it a quick squeeze. Returning her attention to Vegeta, she bowed in a respectful, formal manner, her right fist over her heart, but her left hand covered it.

Saiyans didn't do that. The only people Vegeta knew of that _did_ were...

Something clicked in Vegeta's mind. His eyes widened. "You're..." Somehow he couldn't say it. He couldn't make the words come out of his mouth. It couldn't be true.

"I am Queen Anyakita of Gerdia," she said calmly, rising back upright and offering him her hand, as was custom.

Her words stung like a slap to the face as his suspicions were confirmed. "G-Gerdia? You're _Gerdian?_" Vegeta shouted angrily.

"100%, royal red-blooded, yes. Is that a problem?" Anya asked casually.

"Gods, is that a _problem_, she asks," Vegeta snapped. "What the _hell_, Woman? Did you think that I would never find out? You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Me? I don't think I'm the only one who has a lot of explaining to do," Anya retorted. If Vegeta was going to be a snob, she had no problem dishing the attitude right back his way. "First off, it was your people who started the whole problem, not mine. And if you insist upon being technical, you heard my title. _I_ could be commanding _you_ to-"

"Hey! Hold it right there!" Geta bellowed, shutting both of them up. "You never told me anything about Gerdians," he accused Anya. "Why all of the secrecy? What's so important that I'm not worth telling? And you!" Geta rounded on his father. "What's the problem here? You were all good and nice until ten seconds ago. So she's another species. So what? Why'd you have to go all venom on her all of a sudden?" Geta scowled darkly and crossed his arms. "How would you have liked it if Anya didn't like _you_ because you were Saiyan, huh?"

"Geta..." Anya began nervously. Her eyes flicked over to Vegeta, silently begging him not to make a touchy situation worse.

"Well, Boy, how do you know she _doesn't_ dislike me because I'm a Saiyan?" Vegeta countered. "I do recall you saying that when you first met, your lovely wife here wouldn't even give you the time of day."

/Don't do this! Not like this! He doesn't know!/ Anya wailed. /Please... I _never_ wanted to hurt him./

"Anya?" Geta addressed her incredulously. "Was that... how do you know Saiyan? Even_ I_ don't know how to speak it." He shook his head. "Will one of you please tell me why you wouldn't like..."

It hit him like a ton of bricks- it hadn't been _who_ he personally was that Anya had been trying to avoid. It was _what_ he was. To anyone with a trained eye, especially if they happened to catch a glimpse of a tail, it was easy to pick out a Saiyan. He was a Saiyan. Anya had been avoiding him at first. She hadn't liked him. She hadn't liked Saiyans. Why not? There was no way she could ever have even met a Saiyan. What reason could she possibly have for...

Oh, no._ No._ It couldn't be!

But, what _else_ could it be?

Geta went white and covered his mouth with his hands. He shook his head. "Oh, no no no..." His eyes closed. "Father, please say that what I'm thinking isn't true. _Tell_ me it's not so!" He looked at his father with pleading eyes.

"Son..." Vegeta sighed. "I wasn't even born yet," he murmured. "Gerdia is rich in natural resources. Frieza gave the order and my father sent the ships."

"Ohhh, Kami... I think I'm going to be sick," Geta moaned, sinking to his knees onto the floor. "Anya, why didn't you _tell_ me? I love you so much... It's no wonder... no wonder you didn't want anything to do with me..." He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ashamed by his reaction to her secret, Anya began to cry and knelt down next to him. "Geta, all my life I was taught one thing and only one thing about Saiyans, that they were heartless, cold blooded animals. When I met you, I realized that the prejudice wasn't true, at least as far as you were concerned. It couldn't be. You were the sweetest, most loving man I had ever met. I couldn't help but fall so much in love with you. Since we were both the last of our own people, I didn't see the point in telling you something that would only hurt you."

Geta felt his heart wrench in his chest at the sight of tears trickling down her cheeks, his tongue failing him as he found himself at a loss for words. His wife had only wanted _him_ to be happy. She had concealed the pain of her people in a shroud of silence, choosing to have him remain ignorant rather than to feel guilt over something from the past, something which was not his fault and could not be changed, not by him or anyone else. What could he say? 'Thank you, Dear, for wanting to keep me happy by hiding a horrible secret between our peoples. I'm glad you could see past that'? His eyes darted over to his father, who looked similarly torn, partway between angry and uncomfortable. Why would his father be angry, if it was the Saiyans who tried to purge Gerdia? Whatever had happened during that attack must have been as equally disastrous to the Saiyans as it had been to the Gerdians, if they had managed to survive and even come out victorious. But now was not the time to contemplate that. He rubbed Anya's back in small circles. Maybe that was best for the moment. He just didn't know what else he could say or do that would help.

The room was silent except for Anya's weeping. She spoke up after a moment. "I never wanted to hurt you either." Anya stopped and looked over at Vegeta. _Would he be angry if I called him Pops? I never realized how much I enjoyed doing it until now._ "I wanted to say something to you, since you didn't seem to know," Anya continued in a quiet voice. "But we were getting along so well that I couldn't bear the thought of ruining it. It didn't seem the type of thing that a Saiyan would just brush off." She dropped her eyes to look at the floor. "Most especially the prince himself." Her last statement could barely be heard, but he did not miss it. "I... I treasure your friendship, Vegeta. I see you as the father I always wished I had. One who saw the real me and cared for me because of _who_ I really was, not one who despised me for not being _what_ he wanted."

Geta put his arms around her in an attempt to soothe her, but he could see that his wife's heart was breaking. _She really _does_ love Father as if he was her biological father._ :Oh, Anya... he doesn't hate you, Darling. He's just-:

His sentiments were interrupted when he felt Anya being extricated from his arms as Vegeta lifted Anya to her feet.

"Anya, I... I'm..." Vegeta shook his head in frustration; his mouth wouldn't let him verbalize what he knew she needed to hear, so instead he did the next most difficult thing, something that just might mean the world to her as well. He gently pulled her to him and rested her head against his shoulder, putting his arms loosely around her. He patted her back awkwardly. "All right, let's stop this pointless crying," he said gruffly. "I don't despise you, Anya. You know that. I don't think I could if I tried."

She began crying in earnest now, holding onto him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Yeah, yeah." He patted her back again and sighed. He would do this one ridiculous thing for her and only her, since it seemed to mean so much to her. "By the way, you mispronounced my name earlier."

Anya lifted her head from Vegeta's shoulder and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "What do you mean- oh!" Anya's chin trembled when she realized the meaning of his statement; she'd called him by his name instead of her typical playful 'Pops'.

_Such a foolish thing really does mean that much to her._ "Hn. I'm reserving the privilege only for you, Girl," he growled, once again embarrassed by a silly blonde female.

She rested her head back against his shoulder, tears which were not of unhappiness running down her cheeks. "I love you, Pops. You're my father in every way that really matters."

A little surprised by her bold statement, especially with her husband standing not ten feet away, Vegeta let out a little snort. "I suppose you're okay."

A muffled little giggle came from his shoulder. She knew he was being too macho to say he'd begun to grow fond of her, too, in return.

"Feeling better now?" Vegeta hated seeing her cry almost as much as he hated to see Bulma cry.

Anya stood up straight and nodded, smiling at him.

"Good. No more blubbering, then," he told her in a stern voice. "There are two little brats in the house who do more than their share of..." He stopped, surprised when she leaned forward and gave him another hug and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Pops. I suppose you're not so bad yourself," she teased softly. "I'm glad you know now. I just wish I could have told you sooner and under better circumstances, that's all."

"There's no use in beating yourself up over things you cannot change," Vegeta told her. "Believe me, I've been doing that since I was five."

Anya looked at him with sad eyes. There was only one thing he could be talking about. "I guess we'll have to share stories about _that_ particular subject sometime," she commented with a sigh.

"Perhaps," he mumbled. "I suppose I am curious about how you claimed your title," he admitted. "You're so easy going that I never would have taken you for royalty."

"Well, technically it's a moot point now since my father currently sits on the Gerdian throne and I haven't even been born yet." Anya shrugged. "Believe it or not, I was Queen for almost five years."

"Five years? You must have been, what? Ten?" Vegeta looked at her with astonishment.

"Not quite eleven." Anya sighed. "It was terrible because not only was I inexperienced but I had a lot of so-called 'suitors'," she continued, making the 'quote' gesture with her fingers, "looking to usurp the throne." She paused, deep in thought, and shook her head sadly. "I wonder... no, he'd probably think I was insane."

"Your father?" Geta, who had been quietly standing back and observing, asked.

She nodded and forced a smile. "A story for another day." She tilted her head, contemplating something. "Pops, before it completely fades away, would it bother you if I tried out your ki?"

"When did you take any of mine?" Vegeta asked. "I thought you were using his." He jerked a thumb Geta's way.

"She was, but ditched it when you decided to make some time with her," Geta teased his father. "She _did_ give you that little peck on the cheek, remember?"

Vegeta was unfazed by his son's teasing. "Yes, and right in front of you, too. See? I told you that no woman could ever resist the Prince of Saiyans himself." He raised his head haughtily.

Anya giggled when Geta rolled his blue eyes heavenward dramatically, perfectly reminiscent of his mother. "Well? Would it bother you, Pops?"

"I suppose not," Vegeta conceded. "Which reminds me, I came out here to kick you two out so I can use the room for a while. I've been getting puked on by whiny babies all morning. It's your turn, Son."

"Hmph. Well, at least they won't be rude to me. _They_ care about my feelings, unlike someone else I know," Geta grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling, perfectly reminiscent of his father this time.

"Spoken like a true Saiyan," Vegeta retorted, taking a turn to roll his eyes. "Let me guess. You need a hug and kiss, too."

Geta gave him a look that conveyed both startled surprise and horror. "I don't want you giving me a kiss!" he objected.

"What, are you nuts? I wasn't going to kiss you," Vegeta informed him. "I _was_ going to suggest that your woman..." He stopped, smirking, when his son promptly scooped Anya up and flew for the house, not even waiting to hear the rest of what was about to be said. "Guess I'll keep an eye on the brats, then."

* * *

Vegeta sat in front of the television, a child in the crook of either arm, the remote in his left hand, and a beer in his right. /Would you believe it, Boy? Over 600 channels from all around the world, and absolutely nothing of interest on. Well, except for stuff that your mother would wring my neck if she knew I was watching with either of you in the room./ He looked down at his son, who was staring up at him intently with wide blue eyes. /What?/

The baby continued to stare at his father, then gave him a huge, toothless smile that made Vegeta laugh despite himself. His grandson was snoozing in his other arm, so he set down the beer and remote then carefully slipped the older boy onto the couch next to him. He lifted his son up to eye level to take a better look at him.

VJ squirmed happily in his father's grasp, babbling the sort of nonsense that all babies do. /Is that so?/ Vegeta inquired, amused. _I never thought that this would be something I'd actually enjoy. Enjoy, I must be crazy._ He chuckled when VJ opened his mouth in a huge yawn, his tiny fists rubbing at his eyes. /Ah. Tired, are we, little one?/ He settled the infant against his chest, that feeling he denied having welling up inside of him when the child rested its head on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh, one little hand fisting the fabric of Vegeta's shirt in a tight grip.

Vegeta turned his head slightly to look at his son. The boy's eyelids were drooping as he drifted toward sleep. Touched by the baby's unconditional trust and love, Vegeta did something he had never have even fathomed doing before. After quickly scanning the area and finding that no one was nearby, he placed a gentle kiss on his son's little forehead, curling his arm more securely around the pajama clad body. He ran his hand down the boy's back. He was so small, so fragile.

/You won't be small for long, will you, Child?/ Vegeta murmured, carefully readjusting his hold on his sleeping son so that he rested in the crook of his arm. /You'll grow up into a tall, proud warrior. Hmph. Thank the gods for that./ He shook his head, unwilling to even let himself think about what things would have been like if Frieza hadn't gotten his hooks into him when he was just a boy. He, too, would no doubt have been a large man if he hadn't suffered the abuses Frieza had inflicted upon him.

Sighing, Vegeta pushed the unwelcome thoughts from his mind. He had more important things to think about. /It will be better for you, little one,/ he told his son softly, picking up one of VJ's hands. The tiny fingers closed tightly around one of his much larger fingers, making the unnamed feeling inside of him swell even stronger. /I swear it./

He heard a noise in the hallway and straightened up. He would appear weak if anyone was to see him paying any sort of affectionate attention to his son, or even his mate for that matter. "Anya," he greeted his daughter-in-law as she entered the room.

"Hey, Pops. I figured you had the boys when neither of them was in their crib," she commented, smiling when she saw both children curled up asleep with him.

"Yeah, yeah. Did you have a nice nap?" Vegeta smirked when she turned a lovely shade of pink.

"Yes, thanks," Anya responded with a bashful little smile. "Did you want me to take one of them?"

Vegeta nodded. "Take..." He sighed. "Whatever we are calling your son and I will bring Vegeta."

Anya giggled. "Still refusing to call him VJ, huh?"

Vegeta scowled. "My son's name is Vegeta, not VJ. 'Geta' is a bad enough nickname," he complained.

Anya smiled again, reassuringly this time. "It's not that bad," she told him in a soothing tone. "We could be calling him Veggie." She giggled at the irritated look of warning she received at that suggestion.

"I don't think so," Vegeta responded crankily. "I hate that name."

"Don't worry, Pops. Geta's my Geta, and not anything else." Anya scooped up her son. "Let's put you to bed, little man," she murmured, placing a kiss on the boy's cheek.

"No sleepies, Mama," he mumbled before drifting back into sleep.

"Obviously not," Anya whispered with a wink to her father-in-law. They headed for the nursery and placed both children into their respective beds. Anya shut the door behind them once they were back into the hallway and let out a long sigh. "My baby's growing up so fast."

Vegeta shrugged; what did he say to that? "I have been told that infants tend to do that," he responded matter-of-factly.

A slow smile spread over Anya's face. She wasn't sure if he was joking or serious. A giggle escaped. "You're funny, Pops." She reached out to grasp his hands in hers.

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. This girl truly was a bold one. "What are you doing?"

"Snitching a little of your ki," she responded. "I never did get to try it out, and Geta said he'd take me out to the desert if you gave me some more."

"Oh." There went Vegeta's plans to train, unless he could find Bulma to mind the children; the old people still had not returned home.

"You know," Anya began casually, "you might want to spend some time with Bulma today. She seemed a little, oh, I don't know. Lonely, maybe?"

"Try cranky, maybe," Vegeta retorted. "She is undergoing her menses and I have no desire to be the recipient of her irritation." He'd had enough of that the first time he'd had to deal with it shortly after he'd gotten back from space. After that, he'd vowed to avoid her during subsequent occurrences in order to prevent it.

A little smile flickered at Anya's lips. "All the more reason you could spend a little quality time with her. She could use some understanding and attention," she hinted. "Maybe even a little pampering. Otherwise she's just going to sit there while she's not at work feeling neglected and..." She tapped the left side of her head near the temple repetitively and stared off into space.

It suddenly dawned on Vegeta what his daughter-in-law was referring to. "The scouter?"

Anya nodded. "I don't know what she's looking at, but she's been spending hours on it."

"Hn." Vegeta contemplated Anya's words. Maybe he could get her to tell him what she was looking at, if it was that interesting. "We'll see. But if she starts bitching at me, I'm out of here."

Anya giggled, finding it cute when he unconsciously used Earth slang. "Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Hmph. Go blow up some rocks or something," he grumbled.

Anya kissed his cheek. "See you later, Pops!"

Vegeta watched her leave before feeling out for Bulma's ki. Sure enough, she was in her lab. After peeking in on the two sleeping children, he headed over to the lab.

* * *

"Hey!" Bulma removed the scouter and placed it on her work bench as Vegeta strolled into the lab. She'd made quite a bit of progress on her latest project and didn't need him seeing what she was looking at, so she decided to just act casually. "What brings you here?"

_So Anya was correct. She has been using the scouter._ "Anya insists that you are in need of some so-called quality time," he grumbled. "What do you want?"

Bulma blinked at him in surprise. He could be training, but he'd decided to spend some time with her! The very thought made her break out into a huge smile. "Really?" she nearly squealed.

Vegeta found himself taking a turn at being surprised. _Have I truly been neglecting- No!_ "My training is of the utmost importance, Woman. Either decide what you wish to do or I will go out to the GR," he retorted snobbishly, crossing his arms over his chest. She'd just have to get over it.

Bulma leapt up from her chair. "Oh, nononono... I can think of plenty of things I'd like to do." She gave him a broad smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Will you watch a movie with me?"

"Watch a movie, hmph."

Bulma kissed him on the cheek. "Please?" she coaxed.

Vegeta was forced to admit that she _could_ have asked him to accompany her shopping, which would have been an infinitely worse fate. "I suppose so," he conceded, "as long as it is not overly feminine and sappy."

Bulma giggled and kissed him again, on the lips this time. "No chick flicks, I promise." She let him go and took his hand as they made their way toward the den.

Vegeta allowed the contact and the chance that someone might happen to see his foolish mate holding his hand and towing him along as though he was a mere brat in favor of keeping her mouth silent. She was hormonal and irritable enough as it was; if he was to spend some 'quality time' with her he didn't need her moping about and shrieking at him.

She plopped down onto the couch and patted the seat beside her. "This is so _sweet_ of you, Honey. Thanks for offering." She snatched up the remote and turned the television on.

Vegeta's first inclination was to deny her entire statement. Not only was he _not_ sweet and his name _not_ 'Honey', but it had _not_ been his idea; Anya had guilted him into this entire ridiculous situation. Watching a movie, bah! Not his idea of quality time. There was no doubt as to his definition of the phrase. He wasn't training, nor was she 'up to' the other meaning, so this didn't qualify. "Yeah, yeah." Unable to deny the soft blue eyes silently pleading with him he sat down next to her, suppressing a sigh as she snuggled up against him, worming her way under his arm so he would have to either move it or place it around her.

"Oh! I've always wanted to see this live," Bulma breathed. "I love opera."

Vegeta winced; the young lady on the television was singing in a loud, high pitched voice. Her screeching was far from music to his ears; how could anyone enjoy this? "It's terrible. She sounds like an animal being abused." The woman hit an especially high note, making him wince again. He made a mental note to never attend the opera with the woman, no matter how much she begged. The television had an excellent surround sound system, so good in fact that the hair on the back of his neck was standing up. This would be nothing short of torture live.

Bulma let out a disgruntled noise as she smacked him. "She does not. It takes a lot of talent and years of training to have a voice like hers." She sighed. "I couldn't hold a tune to save my life."

"That may be so, but I can think of one sure way you could save your life right now," Vegeta hinted.

Bulma huffed in annoyance. "Fine. If you don't want to watch this that badly you only had to say so." They sat in silence for a moment while she perused the programming guide. "Ooh, here's one we should watch. I've always liked this movie." She shifted slightly to look up at him. "I hope you like it. It's kind of different." She graced him with another smile before curling back up against him.

They had missed the beginning of the movie, so Bulma gave him a brief synopsis of what they hadn't seen. "So, now he goes around fighting crime as redemption for his sins. He can cloud people's minds so they don't see him. That's why he's called 'the Shadow'. Oh, and he met _her_ at a fancy night club."

Vegeta contemplated this. "That doesn't sound all that exciting," he complained. Truth be told, he could already tell that if he continued to watch this film, he'd be downright bored.

Bulma poked a finger into his ribs, making him squirm away from her probing digit. "Grumpy. Just give it a chance, and if you hate it we'll watch something else," she promised.

"Hmph. I'm only grumpy because I haven't gotten laid lately," Vegeta's complaining continued.

Bulma poked him again, harder this time. "You think I'm enjoying this?" she retorted. "I assure you, being on my period is not my idea of a good time." She snuggled even closer. "I'm cold." The weather had taken a shift from hot to brisk in a relatively short time.

"Well, if you're cold get a blanket," Vegeta responded logically, seeing right through her flimsy excuse, "or wear something with a little more coverage." He indicated his jeans and t-shirt in comparison to her shorts and tank top.

"But you're so warm..."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, although he was not irritated by her. He curled his arm around her, knowing that was what she actually wanted. "Anything else you require, Princess?"

"Well, now that you mention it, would you mind rubbing my back for me?"

"I don't believe this."

"What? I have cramps, and it feels good to have my back rubbed," Bulma whined, expertly extending her lower lip into a pout.

To her surprise, he slid her onto the floor to sit between his feet and began to rub. "Mmmm... that's so nice, Veg..."

"This had better qualify as pampering," Vegeta told her, poking her shoulder as she had his side.

"Mmm-hmm." Dear, sweet Anya...

Vegeta snorted. "At least it keeps that enormous mouth of yours shut."

Bulma leaned backward to scowl at him playfully. "Just watch the movie, okay?"

There was a definite hint of amusement in his eyes. "Hmph."

"Kiss?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her but leaned over to deliver the requested kiss. "Watch your video, Woman."

Satisfied, Bulma resumed watching the movie. "That's her father," Bulma remarked, pointing toward the characters on the screen. "He's a scientist."

Vegeta let out a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "So the blonde who loves to wear flashy evening wear and frequent expensive clubs has a scientist father, hmm? If they had made his hair purple and hers blue... "

She scowled at him. "Vegeta, that's just mean."

"No, look at the glasses. And let me guess, he smokes too." Vegeta smirked at her lack of response. "Well?"

Bulma got back up on the couch. It was embarrassing that he was right. "You were mean, so you have to rub my feet now," she informed him, sticking them on his lap.

Vegeta shoved her feet away. "What am I, a servant? You never rub _my_ feet, Woman," he reminded her. "Why should I rub yours?"

Bulma resumed pouting and curled back up against him. She ignored the chuckling Saiyan as she browsed the program guide again. "There's nothing on."

"If you start flipping through channels, I'm leaving," Vegeta grumbled. While Vegeta himself had been guilty of the offense, now that he knew what type of viewing material each channel aired he personally only checked the ones he had deemed were worth watching. The rest were just a waste of time, especially the one that aired a program from Eastern Country where several females sat at a table, jabbering nonsense about everything and nothing like a flock of squabbling turkeys.

"Okay, all right," Bulma grumbled right back. She turned off the television and got up, grabbing a large book from a shelf on the corner. "Want to look at pictures with me?" she asked, sitting back down beside him and opening the book.

"Not really," he responded in a bored tone.

Her sigh and pleading blue eyes made him feel something he rarely felt and hated to feel- guilt. "Vegeta, all I want is to spend a little time with you. I don't really care what we do." She slid the album onto the coffee table.

He opened his mouth to reply and closed it again, not really knowing what to say to that. "Woman..." He sighed.

She maneuvered herself onto his lap and rested her head upon his shoulder. "Will you tell me about planet Vegeta?" Her fingers absently traced little patterns along his chest.

"It blew up." Vegeta found himself distracted by her warm body and the pleasant fragrance of the soaps she used while washing herself.

"Come on, Vegeta." She looked up at him. "You're my mate, and I love you. I want to know more about you and your culture. What sort of things will you teach our son? He should know about his father's planet and people."

Vegeta hesitated. It was a sore subject for him. "I was taken by Frieza when I was five," he reminded her. "What is there to tell?"

"Tell me about your mother," Bulma suggested softly. "Was she pretty?"

Vegeta nodded, a little grunt in the affirmative accompanying the nod. "She was very beautiful."

Although it seemed as though Bulma would have to spoon-feed him the specific question for every detail, at least he was talking to her. "What did she look like?"

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. He remembered every detail, the way she smelled, the sound of her voice, the color of her eyes, the very infrequent smiles she let escape. "She had long, thick black hair. It was smooth and wavy, and flowed down her back, unlike how most Saiyans' hair grew. She had gray eyes. Not many Saiyans had eyes that were not black, but she did. She did not smile often, but when she did, her eyes would shine like the stars."

Bulma remained perfectly still and quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"She smelled good. I still remember that. It wasn't a flowery smell or a cloyingly sweet smell similar to how many females here smell. She smelled clean, fresh, yet feminine without being overly so."

Bulma prompted him further when it didn't seem that he would readily continue. "Do you look more like your mother or your father?"

"My father had brown hair and dark eyes. I look more like he did, except with my mother's hair color."

"Oh. Kind of like how VJ got my blue hair and eye color, huh?"

Vegeta grunted again. "I suppose so." He frowned. "It is not as though it matters any longer."

Bulma's fingers curled around one of his hands. "Sure it matters," she told him softly, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "They're your parents."

"My father gave me to that _bastard_ Frieza to save his own skin," Vegeta retorted hotly. "He could not even save his own mate from the disgusting freak's clutches."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Frieza took her away too?"

"No," Vegeta contradicted her in a low, bordering on angry voice. "My father disobeyed a direct order from Frieza. Frieza knew that my father was fond of my mother, so he killed her as punishment. He made certain that both my father and I were present when he did it."

Bulma's eyes teared up. "Oh... How terrible," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion.

"He was _weak_," Vegeta spat back, hardly hearing what his mate was saying. "He let his affections for my mother make him weak, and her death was what did him in, only making him weaker and easier to control."

_So_ much made sense now. "Vegeta, Frieza is dead," Bulma murmured softly. "You'll never have to worry about him hurting you again." She reached up to stroke his hair as she did when he had a nightmare when she felt a growl of anger in his chest. "It's all right-"

"Be silent, Woman!" Vegeta snarled angrily, pulling away from her. "You know nothing of pain, of hurt, or of loss!"

Bulma couldn't help but feel hurt by his statement, but understood why he had said it. "You're right," she acknowledged. "I couldn't possibly understand what you and your people went through. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I'll always be here for you." She craned her neck to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

To her surprise, Vegeta's arms suddenly shot around her and he returned the kiss. He held her close, his anger and frustration showing as he kissed her fiercely. He broke the kiss abruptly and lay back on the couch with her.

Bulma lay with him in silence for a moment. "Vegeta?" she ventured.

"Enough, Bulma," he responded sternly, although not unkindly. "I do not wish to discuss the subject further."

She kissed his chest and curled up closer to him. She couldn't take his pain away and she couldn't make what happened better for him, but she would do whatever she could to help him see how very loved he was.

* * *

"Geta, would you mind waking up Bulma and Vegeta for me, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully as she poured gravy into a gravy boat. "They fell asleep on the couch in the den, the poor dears. They're so cute." She smiled at the memory of finding them there, curled up together. She thought it was adorable that, even in sleep, Vegeta still wore his scowl, although it was greatly lessened.

"Sure, Gram. Not a problem," Geta responded as he finished securing his son into a high chair. "Stay put Vegeta, while I go get Grandma and Grandpa, okay?"

The boy nodded solemnly. "Okay, Da."

He chuckled and headed for the den. Peering inside, he could see his father's sock-covered foot and his mother's dainty toes- the nails of which were painted a bright fuschia- past the arm of the couch. A low snore issued from the room and he suppressed a second chuckle.

Bulma shifted and her eyes fluttered open as Geta approached the couch. She smiled at him, a tiny tinge of pink flitting across her cheeks at the expression on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Geta responded softly. "Dinner's ready."

"Thanks." Bulma tried to sit up, but her mate's iron grasp held her fast. "Give me a minute to wake your father up and we'll be right in."

"All right, I'll try to stall for a little bit." Geta nodded to her and left the den.

Bulma wriggled in Vegeta's arms. "Vegeta..."

His only response was a sleepy grunt.

"Vegeta, wake up," Bulma tried again.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "What is it, Woman?" he grumbled, unwilling to admit that he had been enjoying the closeness of her soft, warm body.

"Dinner is ready," she told him. "Let's go eat." She stood up when his arms loosened around her and stretched luxuriously. "We must've really been out of it to sleep so long like that."

"You were cranky and needed a nap," Vegeta informed her.

Bulma snorted. It wasn't _her_ who'd been grumpy. "Okay, Honey. Let's go eat," she repeated.

Anya giggled as they entered the kitchen. Bulma had sleep lines on her face and Vegeta's hair was matted against one side of his head. "Hey Pops, Bulma. Have a nice nap?" she asked, echoing his earlier question.

Vegeta smirked at her as they sat down at the table. "Perhaps not quite as exciting as yours, Woman," he responded smoothly, his smirk widening when her cheeks flushed pink.

"Oh, did something exciting happen today, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked airily as she set the last of dinner on the table and took her seat.

Anya dropped her father-in-law's gaze and turned to her husband, who nodded encouragingly. "Sort of..."

"What is it?" Dr. Briefs queried. He sat with his grandson in the crook of one arm, a fork in the opposite hand, and a bottle carefully propped up in order to feed the child, something that he'd obviously done on numerous occasions in the past.

"I'm not human," Anya ventured, carefully waiting for the surprised reactions she knew she'd receive before continuing on.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs let out little exclamations of surprise, but Bulma dropped the spoon she'd been using to serve herself some potatoes. "What? Seriously? Then what species are you? Where are you from? How did you and Geta even meet?"

"Whoa, time-out," Geta interjected. It was just like how she'd reacted when she'd found out about Anya in the first place. "She'll get to all of that."

Bulma smiled a little bashfully. "Okay, all right," she relented.

"I am Gerdian," Anya reported. "I'm from a planet called Gerdia, which is about a six-month journey from here."

"Oh, my!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "How exciting!" This made _two_ members of her family from outer space!

Anya couldn't contain her smile at the older woman's exuberance. "There's more," she continued. "I am actually royalty too, like Pops is. I was queen in my time. My father is king of Gerdia right now."

"Really now?" Dr. Briefs asked thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have guessed. You're very young, and you seem so laid back."

Anya nodded. "Pops said the same thing. I guess I'm not quite as cranky as he is," she teased, winking at her father-in-law playfully.

"Wait- you knew about this, Vegeta? Why keep it a secret?" Bulma demanded.

"Hold on, Bulma. Pops only found out today," Anya defended her father-in-law. "It's a long story." Her demeanor changed, and she sighed deeply.

"Mama boo-hoo?"

Anya looked over to her son with fondness. Not much got past her perceptive little boy. "Mama's okay, Sweetheart. Let's eat this tasty dinner Gram cooked, all right?" She took a bite of her food. "The roast is delicious, Bunny."

"Thank you, Dear." The fact that Anya had suddenly clammed up and that little Vegeta had so quickly picked up on it bothered her.

* * *

"Are they asleep, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked as her daughter joined them in the den.

Bulma nodded and sat down on the loveseat next to Vegeta. "Yes, out like lights."

The room was quiet for a moment. "Well, I guess I'll start with now," Anya spoke up. "As I mentioned, I am from a planet called Gerdia. My father is currently king, and I haven't even been born yet." She paused. "That's a weird thought. Anyway, my future on Gerdia will not be a happy one. My mother..." She let out a long sigh.

"It's okay, Anya," Geta told her, taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze of encouragement. "Take your time."

She gave him a weak little smile and returned the squeeze. "My mother died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. My father wasn't a kind man while I was growing up. From what I could ascertain from other people, he loved my mother very much, and he blamed me for her death. Add that to the fact that he got a daughter instead of a son, it's pretty safe to say that he didn't like me much."

Bulma got up and sat down next to Anya on the couch. "Oh, Anya... I'm sure that's not true," she soothed, putting an arm around the distraught young woman's shoulders and handing her a tissue.

Anya sniffled and took the tissue. "How can I feel otherwise, Bulma? He never spent any time with me, and he was short with me when he had to be around me."

A disgusted grunt came from the loveseat. "It's a royalty thing, Girl. My father never had time for a brat either. Hence, I had a more familiar relationship with my bodyguard than I did my own father."

They all looked at Vegeta in surprise. He rarely offered such personal information. "I'm sorry you went through that too, Pops," Anya murmured.

Vegeta shrugged it off, but anyone who knew him well would have been able to tell that it did in fact bother him. "From what I know of King Herrón, like any good monarch he acts how he must in order to get the job done, but he is also a reasonable man."

"Oh, have you met him, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked with interest. "Maybe you should try to talk to him for Anya."

Vegeta just kept his eyes from widening. _What, and sign my own death warrant?_ "No, I have never met him, only heard of him. I do not imagine that he would be very receptive to speaking with me. Anya will get to that," he added before his inquisitive mate could interject.

"Pops, never mind," Anya interrupted softly. "If you did manage to speak with him he'd only think you were crazy. Heck, _I'd_ think you were crazy if I wasn't the one telling the story." She gave him a sad smile. "I always wished I could have known my mother, but I guess it just isn't meant to be."

"I'm sorry, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told her sorrowfully, a tissue of her own in her hand. "What a sad story."

"It only gets worse, I'm afraid," Anya admitted. "When I was ten, there was a rebellion on Gerdia, and someone tried to usurp my father's throne. My father was killed, but the usurper wasn't successful in gaining the throne. Instead, I was crowned queen just before my eleventh birthday." She wadded up her tissue into a little ball as she spoke. "Just before I turned sixteen, my counselors decided to send me away so that no one could get their son on the throne through me. By Gerdian tradition, female royalty reaches marriageable age at sixteen, so the child would have been a legal heir to the throne. I... I lost everything in the future. Everyone. The rebels literally destroyed the planet when full-blown war broke out upon my departure." Her tears began anew. "My counselors did research of different planets, and I think I was sent here because they got wind of Earth taking a downward spiral, and figured that being the case, no one would think to look for me here. Besides, it's quite far away, so I couldn't easily be forced to return in a timely manner." She drew in a deep breath. "If what Geta told you can change the future of this planet, surely what I know can change Gerdia's. I have ten years to figure out what to do, right?" She gave her listeners a shaky little smile. "Even though he wasn't the best parent to me emotionally, Father always made sure that I was safe. He was a good father in that respect, and I loved him despite our troubles. So I'll find a way to save him, my people and my planet, even if I can't save my mother."

"I wish you the best, Anya," Vegeta spoke up again. "It wasn't easy losing everything, I know." Again, his openness and candor surprised them all. "You do understand, if I were _anyone_ else, legally I might be able to use my title to gain access to your father to help you. I wish I could."

Anya smiled at his words. "I know you would, Pops."

"Hold on, what do you mean if you were anyone else?" Bulma asked, her brow wrinkled with confusion. "Doesn't being royalty give you some sort of clout the rest of us don't have?"

Vegeta sighed in a 'here we go!' fashion. "Usually, yes. But if I were to ask for an audience with King Herrón, I doubt it would go well, since Frieza ordered a purge of Gerdia shortly before I was born, which my father personally arranged. Let's just say that fortunately for the Gerdian people it was it not a successful purge, and it left quite a bad taste in their mouths for Frieza and especially for Saiyans."

Bulma winced. "A lot of stuff makes sense now, I have to say."

Geta nodded. "I didn't know until today myself, because Anya chose not to disclose it to me. I can't say I'm happy about not knowing, but I do understand." He squeezed his wife's hand again.

"I'm sorry, Honey," Anya murmured. "I just didn't want to hurt you, that's all."

He nodded. "I know." A little chuckle escaped. "Our relationship is pretty ironic, isn't it?"

Anya giggled when he pulled her close and kissed her cheek. He always knew how to make her feel good. "A one in a billion chance," she agreed.

"Pardon my question, Vegeta, but how were the Gerdian people able repel a purging attempt?" Dr. Briefs spoke up. "It's not as though they could have had any advance warning, and I was under the impression that Saiyans were, well..."

"Vicious, bloodthirsty and violent savages?" Vegeta let out a sound halfway between a chuckle and a snort. "We were, when we went into battle, yes. But my father didn't know the truth about Gerdians when Frieza ordered the purge. Even Oozaru proved to be of no benefit to us." He beckoned to Anya. "Come over here and show them what you can do."

Anya nodded and came over to sit beside him, then took his hand.

"I can do that too," Bulma joked with a little giggle.

"Sure, but can you do this?" Anya extended her hand, palm up. A ball of ki formed on her palm, gradually growing in size until it was the size of a softball.

Bulma stared in amazement at the glowing blue mass of energy in her daughter-in-law's hand. "That's just... Did you create that, or..." She wasn't even sure what it was that she was trying to ask.

"No," Anya disagreed, "this is Pops' energy. I borrowed, well, kind of leeched a bit of ki from him, if you will, when I touched his bare skin. In doing so, Pops' ki replaced whatever energy I had from incidental contact with Geta. I can use it to do whatever it is that Pops can do, as long as I understand how."

"That's amazing," Bulma breathed. "Not to change the subject, but what else can you do?"

"My favorite thing has always been flying. It's _so_ exhilarating, such a free feeling," Anya responded with not much forethought.

"I dunno, you seem to like blowing stuff up," Geta teased good-naturedly. "You should have been there the first time she tried making a ki ball."

Faster than most of them in the room could see, Anya got up from the couch and leapt upon her chortling husband. "I'll ki ball _you_ if you don't watch it," she mock growled, striking him on the chest with her fists in a manner obviously not intended to inflict injury upon her victim.

Her victim, however, seemed to be enjoying the attention and continued to chuckle as he grabbed her comparatively tiny fists in his hands. "Don't tease." Geta kissed her hands gently.

She sighed and curled up against his chest. "So, I guess that's pretty much it. After I arrived here, I moved from place to place, trying to find food and shelter with different groups of refugees. I was forced to learn Standard on my own, and how to fend for myself. It wasn't long before I met this guy." She poked her husband for emphasis.

"How long did it take you to learn Standard?" Bulma asked, fascinated by the younger woman's story.

Anya looked up at Geta and shrugged. "I don't know. How long until I was understandable?"

"I could always understand you. Well, most of the time," Geta responded thoughtfully. "Anya's Standard was very broken when we met, but I did my darnedest to get to know her anyway. I think she used the 'no speaking Standard' ploy at first as an excuse to try to ditch me, but now she's just chatter, chatter, chatter all the time." He laughed at her protruding lower lip.

Anya smacked his chest playfully. "What's your excuse? You never shut up."

Vegeta watched the banter between his son and daughter-in-law only half-heartedly. His mind was elsewhere, digesting what Anya had divulged. He could easily relate to her loss, her pain. He would be hard pressed to admit it, but he'd grown quite fond of the young woman since her arrival. There was nothing he could do to bring back his parents, his people, or his planet. They were forever lost. But Anya and Geta had no intentions of returning to the future, and Anya had yet to lose anything in this timeline. Given effort- and an extreme amount of it- everything she had lost in the future could be preserved this time around.

But how to _do_ it? Gerdia was a good six months' travel away. Given the eight month age difference between his son and daughter-in-law, Anya would be born in a little more than three months. Even if he did attempt to travel there in the girl's behalf, he could never make it there in time. If he tried to send the king a communicade, his story would never be believed and would only be perceived as a threat. He could not teleport there, because not only was he not entirely familiar with where Gerdia was in the universe, but he was completely unfamiliar with anyone's ki there. He needed to be able to locate a specific ki in order to gain a destination point. It simply wasn't possible. There wasn't a way to do it.

"Pops? Pops? Hellooooo...?" Anya giggled when Vegeta, who had been so engrossed in his musings that he hadn't heard her speaking to him, snapped back to reality. "Hey, where were you, lost in space?"

"Hmph. Whatever," Vegeta grumbled, embarrassed by being caught lost in thought for the second time that day.

"Drat, I could have given him another kiss on the cheek," Mrs. Briefs mock pouted, laughing along with the others as Vegeta's cheeks once again flushed pink. "He's just too quick for me otherwise."

A little growl escaped from the disgruntled Saiyan and he rose to his feet. "I'll be training."

Anya disentangled herself from her husband and stood up. "Aww, Pops. C'mon, nobody meant any harm, really. Don't be upset." She took his arm. "Bulma and Shatsu and Bunny want to see a demonstration and the boys will probably sleep for a while. Why don't you come outside with us?"

"I'll stay here with the kids," Geta offered. "Why don't you go on with Anya, Father? Maybe you could give her a few pointers."

Vegeta sighed. His daughter-in-law's green eyes weren't pleading with him the way Bulma's sometimes did, but shone softly at the prospect of him coming with them.

"Hey, it's late, and it's getting dark outside," Bulma spoke up. "Why don't we wait for tomorrow instead?"

"Fine, fine," Vegeta grumbled, inwardly pleased when Anya beamed in response.

* * *

"Hold your hands more like this." Vegeta reached over to reposition Anya's hands before demonstrating the proper positioning with his own. "The shape and spread of your fingers will determine the precise direction of your blast."

Understanding suddenly flooded into Anya's eyes. "Oh! No wonder I was always off target," she exclaimed.

Vegeta grunted in the affirmative and let a Galic Gun go into the atmosphere. He wasn't too keen on other people using his own technique, but Geta and Anya were exceptions he could live with. "Try it again."

She nodded and positioned her hands by her side before thrusting them forward and releasing the energy with a shout of triumph.

"I'll never get over how incredible that is to watch," Dr. Briefs murmured with a shake of his head. It was one thing when a laser generated a beam, or one of Vegeta's bots fired a blast, but those were artificial. This was energy internally produced by a living, breathing being, and the scientist in him was utterly fascinated by the workings of it.

His wife nodded in agreement. "Such power makes me feel like a teensy tiny speck in comparison."

He patted her on the shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short, Bunny. You make a mean chocolate truffle cake. That's no small feat."

Mrs. Briefs laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Dear. I can make that tomorrow for dessert."

"Mom, did you and Daddy see that? Bulma exclaimed, interrupting their conversation.

"Yes, quite the extraordinary display, young lady," Dr. Briefs commented. "So, the Gerdian people were able to fight back utilizing energy blasts?"

Anya nodded. "It's my understanding that some of them knew how to manipulate ki energy and used it to their advantage. But there were others who took advantage of Oozaru, too."

"You mean they turned into Oozaru the same way Saiyans do?" Bulma asked, her imagination running wild. Would they grow fur all over their bodies the way Saiyans did? Would they get tails? Grow taller?

"No, but they kind of went nutso," Anya told her, an impish grin playing upon her face. "Nobody had ever tried it before and certainly no one could control it, but when a couple Gerdians who'd been in the middle of the fight went berserk after looking at the moon, the others followed suit and did it deliberately. I guess they figured that unless they did something drastic they were all going to die anyway, so what did they have to lose? The Saiyan forces weren't nearly as large as the Gerdian population was, which wouldn't have been a problem if no one could fight back, but imagine what thousands of mindless, rampaging people could do, even to giant apes."

There was a pause. "Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs supplied.

"I think that about sums it up," Dr. Briefs agreed. He had to admit that there was a part of him that would have been fascinated to witness what Anya was depicting.

"Wow," Bulma breathed. "And I'm assuming that this was Gerdia's natural moon and not a ki moon?"

"Ki moon?" Anya asked, puzzled.

"Unlike his son, Kakarrot's father actually had some brains and figured out a way to use ki energy to emulate the effects of a full moon," Vegeta interjected, ignoring the sour look his mate was giving him. "I am uncertain as to whether it would have been regularly implemented by that point, or if it had even yet been discovered."

"Which means, there was no way to turn it off," Bulma mused. "The Gerdians would've been stuck like that until the sun came up or the ki energy they were using wore off."

Anya nodded. "Yes, and by sheer force of numbers they overpowered the Saiyans." She didn't feel the need to mention that they even managed to remove a few of the giant beasts' tails, forcing them to regress to their natural forms. Her father-in-law had similarly lost his own tail, and according to Geta was understandably touchy about it. No point in bringing it up. "They let a few of them go to let King Vegeta know that the mission had failed, but that was it. End of story." She contemplated this. "Wow, that was what? Going on thirty years ago. My father would have been a young boy then. Ten, maybe? That's probably why he insisted that I be taught the Saiyan language, so that if there were any of them left to form another attack on us, I wouldn't be left completely in the dark."

"You speak Saiyan, Anya?" Mrs. Briefs asked in surprise. "Oh, say something for us!"

/How interesting that she asked me instead of you,/ Anya noted, casting Vegeta a look of amusement. /Did she ever ask you?/

/No, but I never spoke it around her either,/ Vegeta responded. He was actually pleased that the girl knew his mother tongue. While it was more harsh and guttural than either Standard language or even the Gerdian tongue, he enjoyed speaking it and never thought he'd find another individual who did as well.

/Oh, by the way, grass is green, the sky is blue, and I like your shirt,/ Anya added casually.

Vegeta frowned slightly. /Why would you make such a statement?/

"Oh, what did you say to Vegeta, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked, answering Vegeta's question.

Vegeta smirked at Anya; she was a smart cookie. "She just made a few generic statements and then asked how her pronunciation was," he told the older woman. "It is actually quite good, but she has a very heavy accent."

"Oh?" Anya's eyebrow rose. "Let's hear your attempts at _my_ language, then," she challenged, her arms crossing in a very Vegeta-esque fashion.

{What would you like me to say, Girl? Grass is green, the sky is blue, and I like your shirt?} Vegeta responded innocently. {That's pretty boring if you ask me.}

Anya sighed and shook her head. "It figures."

"What? What did he say?" Bulma asked.

"Oh, he just repeated what I said earlier, and nearly accent less, too," Anya responded. "Let me guess, you probably speak a gazillion languages, don't you?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Quite a few, yes, including some obscure lost languages. Something to do, I suppose," he responded casually. "Frieza had computer programs designed for quick absorption of information, including languages. Some I learned out of curiosity, while others I learned since I would be going to that planet."

"So why Gerdian?" Bulma asked, completely fascinated by the concept of information absorption. She thought about the scouter, and the possibility that it might contain information she could use to accomplish a similar feat.

"It was an accident, actually," Vegeta mused. "I asked for a different language, and the technician programmed Gerdian instead."

"Well, at least it was a nice mistake, Dear," Mrs. Briefs decided.

"Bulma, I wonder if we could develop something like that ourselves," Dr. Briefs interjected thoughtfully. "Think of how useful that would be for training purposes."

"You read my mind, Daddy." Bulma's eyebrow rose. "No wonder you know how to do so many things," she accused her mate.

"Hmph. What technical things I know I learned on my own," Vegeta objected sourly. "I learned _cultural_ things from Frieza's databases."

"Now, now Dear," Mrs. Briefs soothed the irritated Saiyan. "So, Anya, how long until you use up Vegeta's energy?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. "Can you keep it for later?"

Anya smiled. "That's a good question, Bunny. Actually, it depends on how I use it. If I expend a lot of it quickly, it will be used up proportionally. But if I don't use it, it will gradually fade, kind of like hot food getting cold," she explained, knowing the older woman would be able to grasp her illustration. "Or, if I come into contact with someone else, their energy would displace Pops' energy, since I can only retain so much."

"Oh. Like what you did before with Geta's energy." Mrs. Briefs considered this as Anya nodded. "What uses it up fast, Dear?"

"Well, ki blasts like you just saw use up a lot, and powering up does too," Anya told her.

"Powering up?" Vegeta echoed. "Geta taught you how to do it?"

Anya nodded again. "It was one of the many things he taught me to do." She took Vegeta's hand again briefly, then stood back.

Vegeta watched, partly in wonder and partly in disturbance, as the young woman's aura glowed about her. Small rocks began to quiver at her feet and slowly rise into the air. Just what was it she hoped to accomplish?

"Can you go any higher?" Bulma asked. "Daddy, maybe we should run some tests on how Anya uses ki energy. It might help us build a good ki battery," she suggested.

"I hadn't considered that, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs responded. "That's an excellent idea."

Excited now, Bulma turned back to Anya. "Can you power up any higher?"

"Uhm, yes," Anya answered hesitantly. She knew what she was capable of and didn't want to step on Vegeta's toes. From the look on his face, if she went all the way, she'd probably do just that.

"So let's see," Bulma urged. "Go as high as you can without hurting yourself."

Anya frowned. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"No, show us, Anya." Vegeta crossed his arms. There was the morbidly curious part of him that had to see just what she could do.

Anya took in a deep breath, nodded, and closed her eyes as she let the energy flow through her body. Her aura flashed blue momentarily, before exploding into a burst of gold.

"Oh my goodness," Mrs. Briefs whispered, breaking the uncomfortable silence; no one else had the courage to speak to the Saiyan standing nearby, whose astonishment was quickly turning to anger.

"How?" Vegeta choked out, just barely keeping himself from shouting at the girl hovering above the ground before them.

Anya opened her eyes and fixed their pupil less teal gaze upon him. "I don't know, Pops. It's _your_ energy," she began softly. "I can't create this. I can only emulate what _you_ can do with it. Geta explained what happens to him when he transforms and, well, I tried to channel your ki energy that way. This is the result."

Vegeta realized that his jaw had clenched and his fists were balled tightly shut. He knew that Anya was not to blame for his anger, as she had only done what he personally had requested of her. It wasn't her fault that it was now painfully obvious to him- and everyone else- that he did indeed have the power to become a Super Saiyan, but had yet to accomplish it, while she, an alien, did it almost effortlessly. But he didn't want to make her the recipient of his anger, so without further reply, he rocketed into the air, building up speed quickly enough to break the sound barrier.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs whispered. There was nothing else to say.

"Great," Anya grumbled, returning to her natural state. "I knew he would be offended."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Anya," Bulma assured her upset daughter-in-law. "He probably suspected you could do it, and had to see for himself. He'll be all right when he calms down." _More than likely, he'll train harder than ever before, and I'll never see him._

Anya sighed, still upset by Vegeta's hasty retreat. "I'm sure you're right," she murmured. "We should get back to the house before I use up all of this ki."

* * *

Damn Super Saiyan. A slip of a girl who wasn't even Saiyan could do it, and with his own energy, no less. A Kami damned third-class _idiot_ could do it. But could he? Of course not! Vegeta sullenly kicked at a piece of rock left over from a boulder he'd blasted. The satisfaction he normally derived from destroying things had done little to alleviate his sour mood.

A familiar ki was approaching. It could only be one of two people but, judging by the 'soft' feel of it, he doubted it was the first individual who had come to mind. "Anya," he murmured as his sensitive hearing detected feet touch the ground.

There was a long pause. "Pops, could I talk to you please?"

Upon hearing the distressed tone to Anya's voice, Vegeta turned around to face her. "Speak," he told her emotionlessly.

Anya caught her breath and bit at her lip. She really had hurt his pride. "Pops, I'm sorry about what happened today. I never intended to hurt or embarrass you."

Vegeta felt his irritation waning as she continued to nibble at her lip, blinking back tears as she did so. He sighed; her tears were not for her own sake; they were for him, because of him. "I told you earlier, no more of these ridiculous tears."

Anya's face immediately changed from one of sadness to one of indignation. "My tears are _not_ ridiculous!" she shouted, surprising him. "If I didn't care about you or how you felt, I wouldn't be here, let alone crying because I hurt you!" she continued angrily. "There's nothing wrong with letting people know you care, and if I thought it might make a difference, I would suggest that perhaps you might take a lesson from my ridiculous display!" She turned on her heel and took to the air.

"Anya!" Vegeta called after her. "Anya, come back over here."

She stopped and looked at him behind her shoulder. "Speak."

Vegeta let out a long sigh. He knew he hadn't been very civil to the young woman, who had been only trying to make peace with him. "Look," he began uncomfortably, "I..."

"You were rude and unkind to me, after I came looking for you to apologize for what happened, even though you told me to do it?" Anya suggested, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Vegeta sighed again. "Yes, I was rude and unkind," he acknowledged, a little embarrassed to be doing so, "and you owe _me_ no apology."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly in surprise. That hadn't been what she'd expected him to say. Now she found herself taking a turn at being at a loss for words. "Pops, I..."

"Come here, Anya," Vegeta repeated in a soft voice. He held his hand out to her.

His words may not have reflected it, but his stance spoke more than words could ever say. Had he been wearing gold and jewels and elegant clothing made of the finest of fabrics, he could have been standing in a palace and looking completely the part. Her dignity now a little closer to being restored, Anya set down in front of him and accepted his offering.

He raised her hand in his and placed a genteel kiss upon it. "I apologize for my rather uncouth behavior, milady, and hope that henceforth you might be in better spirits toward me."

Anya smiled. So, he could be a gentleman after all. "Thank you, good sir," she responded, just as politely. "Perhaps we might start by returning home to eat dinner. Bunny has been keeping it warm in the hopes that you might join us."

Vegeta let out a little snort of amusement. Not only did Anya not take advantage of the opportunity he had presented to her, but what she had said sounded precisely like what Bunny would do. "Very well," he agreed.

Her smile widened. After the incident in the GR, she had expected that she'd be able to get him to come. "Shall we?"

He shook his head this time, his smirk firmly in place. "You're really something else, aren't you?" He was beginning to see how easily his son so very much valued this young woman.

"Yes, and don't you forget it," Anya retorted, surprising him with another hug. She giggled when she heard him sigh, and his hand awkwardly patted her back.

"I wasn't upset with you, Anya," Vegeta murmured. "I was just..."

"Frustrated," Anya finished for him. "It's not difficult to understand how this could be frustrating to you."

"Yeah." Vegeta decided to end the conversation before he could become irritated again by the very thought of it. "Let's go eat dinner."

"Okay. Fly?" The evening sky was beautiful, the setting sun painting bright streaks of color across it as an artist's brush might beautify a canvas.

"Sure. Why not?"

* * *

Vegeta crammed another pancake into his mouth and nearly choked when he turned the page of the magazine Mrs. Briefs had left on the kitchen table. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, not caring that his mouth was still full.

"What?" Bulma repositioned their enthusiastically nursing son slightly so she could lean over to see the magazine he was holding up and rolled her eyes. Great, _another_ one. "Oh Vegeta, why do you even look at that trash?"

Vegeta swallowed. "It was sitting here," he retorted defensively. While it was a weak excuse at best, it wasn't as though the prince actually looked for _The West Capital Scandalmonger_ magazine. It was just something that he oftentimes found conveniently lying around after the blonde female had her morning coffee, and it frequently contained unflattering- and therefore amusing- pictures of various humans. Many of them he had seen on the television, so he recognized that socially they were persons of importance. Seeing them knocked down a peg or two only made the embarrassing photos all the more amusing to look at. It was, however, a completely different feeling when the person of importance happened to be one's own mate. "What the hell is this?" he repeated, pointing to a picture of Bulma and their son and mentally thanking the gods that it was nothing embarrassing.

Bulma sighed. Her mother had neglected to tell her about that particular picture. Normally Mrs. Briefs threw out the issues that contained a picture of one of them before the proud prince could see it, but she must have become sidetracked by something and forgotten to dispose of the magazine. Bulma too had managed to hide the photos from him so far, but it was inevitable that eventually one would sneak through the cracks. He'd reacted with surprise when he'd seen her at a press conference on the evening news on television once, but this was a trashy magazine. "That's from when I went to lunch with Chi-Chi last week. I took VJ with me, and the paparazzi caught a picture of us coming out. No big deal."

"Hmph." Vegeta took a gulp of his coffee. "I do not want whoever this paparazzi individual is photographing you or the boy, especially without prior authorization."

She shrugged and put the baby over her shoulder, patting his back to burp him. "Vegeta, the paparazzi are just a bunch of amateur photographers who take candid pictures of famous people and sell them to these magazines and newspapers. Unless they're stalking me or violating my privacy on private property, most of the time it's not something I worry about." If she had bothered to worry about every picture they'd ever snapped of her with Yamcha, she would have never had a moment's rest.

Vegeta frowned. "I demand that they desist immediately."

Bulma snorted and laughed. "Yeah, and I demand that the sun stop shining during the day."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "How can that be constituted as a reasonable demand?"

"It isn't, but they seem to think depriving them of their sleazy means of living is unreasonable, too." Bulma patted his arm comfortingly, as he looked rather perturbed. "Sweetie, I just had to get used to it. You will too."

His frown deepened. He knew that the Briefs were persons of great importance in the business world of this planet; he had understood that and grudgingly accepted that appearing on television or even a photograph in a legitimate newspaper might be constituted part of doing business. That was one thing, but the thought of someone photographing his mate and son for a trashy magazine without her _consent_ and earning money doing so was deeply disturbing to him. What else were they photographing? His training sessions, perhaps? Capsule Corp trade secrets? "I sincerely doubt that."

"Well, what do you want me to do, never go outside?" Bulma put VJ into his bouncer and got up to pour herself some coffee. "There's nothing I can do about it, so why stress over it?"

Vegeta growled. "If they know what's best for them,_ I _had better never be displayed in any of those disgraceful photographs," he groused irritably.

She sighed. Should she tell him or not? "Vegeta, I hate to break it to you, but you were once."

"What?" Vegeta all but roared. He scowled when the baby began to cry. He hadn't meant to frighten his son and became irritated when he found himself feeling guilty about it. The child was fine.

Bulma contained another sigh and scooped up their son. "Shhhh, it's okay, baby boy. Daddy's just upset," she soothed. "Vegeta, there was one picture once, when we went to the 'Tiny Tots' store," she began hesitantly. "They just got the back of your head, that's all."

"That's still too much," he growled, getting up from the table to retrieve the entire coffee pot. He was going to need it.

"What? I thought you wanted to be worshiped," Bulma teased, winking when he scowled at her irritably. "Look, it's not as though you go many places with me anyway, so you really don't have much to complain about."

Vegeta didn't miss the hurt tone to her voice. "What is that supposed to mean, Woman?" he demanded.

Bulma sighed. There was no sense in beating around the bush; his sensitivities were already ruffled. "It's just that we hardly ever go anywhere together, so how could they get many pictures of you? I mean, Yamcha and I used to go out all the time and-"

"I am not that scar-faced idiot," Vegeta interrupted sourly. "Do not compare me to him." He poured himself another cup of coffee. "_Yamcha_, hmph."

Bulma put her son back into the bouncer. "Well, you may not like the idea, but it might be to your benefit to make some public appearances with me," she suggested.

Vegeta frowned. What was she getting at? Suddenly it hit him, and he sat up straighter in his seat. "Don't tell me..." He eyed his dozing son warily.

Bulma wrung her hands nervously at the expression on his face. "Damn it, Vegeta, what are people _supposed_ to think? I never go anywhere with a boyfriend or anything like that and Yamcha was the last person I openly dated, so naturally they assume that, well..."

Vegeta's scowl deepened. He was loathe to admit it, but she had a point. He'd only been with her to the physician for females' office and shopping a couple of times. Usually they went out to eat. How these nosy humans had only managed to photograph him once was actually quite strange. Then again, he _had_ been gone for over half of a year... He shoved the thought away; that was beside the point and he'd done nothing wrong!

"I guess I don't know what you expect me to do," Bulma continued, interrupting his thoughts.

"I expect you to get yourself and the boy dressed," Vegeta instructed in a tone that bode no opposition. "We will go out."

Bulma snorted in amusement. "You mean find them before they find us? Now there's a noble idea." She kissed him on the cheek before picking up the baby and leaving the kitchen.

Vegeta sighed and poured himself still another cup of coffee. Now what he gotten himself into?

* * *

"Oh, that dress is adorable." Bulma gazed at the boutique window for a long moment before turning to him with big blue puppy eyes. "Would it kill you too much if I went inside?"

"Perhaps not me, but one of us might meet an untimely death," Vegeta commented in a not so innocent fashion.

Bulma huffed impatiently. He'd been dropping little hints like that a lot lately and it was becoming annoying. What was wrong with simply saying he didn't want to? "Fine."

"You have more than enough clothing, Woman," Vegeta informed her. "Besides, if you go inside for that garment, you will end up trying on half the store." He'd learned that lesson the hard way when she'd taken him shopping at the mall. If she saw anything she even remotely wanted either of them to try on, it took forever.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "You're probably right," she conceded. "And you've been incredibly patient today." She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Bulma, stop it," he muttered when she leaned in for a kiss. They were in plain sight on the street, and he'd seen at least two individuals who he was positive were following them.

"Oh, Vegeta," she chastised him gently before leaning in and kissing him soundly.

He found his body relaxing as his arms slid around her and he returned the kiss. Weak... he was truly becoming weak... She was so easily able to manipulate him with that body and that mouth and those eyes.

Bulma pulled back and gazed at him fondly. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" She giggled at the expression on his face.

"Hmph."

Her smile widened. "Don't worry. I promise I'll make it up to you."

Vegeta blinked, spots momentarily clouding his vision as a flash went off in his face. "What the...?"

"And so it begins," Bulma murmured. She gave the photographer a little smile that seemed rather forced and began to push VJ's stroller. "Come on, Vegeta, let's keep moving."

"You were right. It _is_ Bulma Briefs!"

Bulma bit back a groan. There were several of them. One or two she could deal with, but several meant them flocking around her, competing with each other for the best shot.

"Ms Briefs! Is this man your boyfriend?" one of them shouted.

"Is he the father of your child? Rumor has it that the baseball player Yamcha-"

_That_ did it.

Vegeta snatched up his son from the stroller and held him protectively. "Enough of this foolish talk," he yelled irritably. "By the gods, what is the problem with you nosy people?"

Despite the photographers' mouths momentarily falling silent their cameras did not as they continued to take pictures, flashes going off all around the couple despite the beautifully sunny skies.

Bulma tried not to wince. This wasn't going to fare well. "Vegeta," she began nervously.

"I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and this is _my_ son," Vegeta continued in a much calmer voice. "Make no mistake about that." He quickly encapsulated the stroller and shoved the capsule into his pocket. "Let's get out of here," he growled under his breath.

"Fine by me," she murmured back, relieved that he had not made too horrible of a scene.

Vegeta attempted to steer them through the swarm of people who had begun to gather and still retain his temper. They were pressing in so closely, their cameras thrust into their faces, that escape was nigh impossible. The baby snuggling against his shoulder began to cry, and Vegeta decided he'd had enough. "Take the boy," he decided, handing VJ to his mother.

Bulma took their son from him. "Vegeta, what are you- oh!" Her eyes widened and she gasped when he scooped her up and took to the air. She clutched their baby closer. "Vegeta, this will be all over the papers tomorrow," she informed him.

"Let them talk," Vegeta retorted. "The truth cannot be any worse than the lies they have already been spreading about the boy, can it?" His face twisted into a frown. "Yamcha, _my_ son's father. Hmph."

Bulma opened her mouth to respond. "I..." She closed her mouth. He was right, and he had done this for her sake. She hadn't wanted to so openly flaunt Vegeta's abilities and make him an even bigger target of the media, but he was right. At least they'd be gossiping about the truth this time.

"Hmph. Meddlesome vultures," Vegeta grumbled in disgust. He supposed that he really should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later without deliberately seeking it out since Bulma was wealthy and well known in the community. Humans were a nosy sort, and of course they would want to know who her son's sire was. It was just as well; he would not stand for anyone thinking that Bulma was mating with her idiotic ex-boyfriend.

* * *

"My goodness."

"What is it, Daddy?" Bulma asked, peering over her father's shoulder at the newspaper he was reading. She blinked in surprise. She wasn't surprised to see a picture of her and Vegeta during their outing the previous day, but the one they'd chosen to print made her eyes go wide and a flush of pink spread across her cheeks. "Uhm, yeah."

"Let's see!" Anya demanded, taking a spot behind the doctor's other shoulder. She giggled nervously. "Oh boy... Pops is going to have a cow when he sees this."

"Hand it over."

All three of them looked up. Vegeta was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and lips pursed in what it was unclear was either irritation or resignation to the inevitable.

Dr. Briefs handed the paper to him silently.

Vegeta looked at it. His eye twitched but he kept his composure. "Figures they chose to print _that_ one," he growled as he stared at the large photograph on the front page of the _Western Capital Daily News_ depicting him and Bulma locked in a passionate embrace, their wide-eyed son looking up at them from his stroller as they kissed. He had no idea what the large print above the picture said and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Vegeta..." Bulma began hesitantly.

"Whatever." Vegeta tossed the paper onto the table with a scowl. "I might have expected that." He shook his head. "While I am not exactly pleased by this, at least they will not dare sully your reputation any further by continuing to insinuate that you are fraternizing with that Yamcha moron in such a disgraceful manner."

"Yeah, I suppose 'Capsule Corp Princess Finds Her Prince' is a better newspaper headline than 'Is Titan Yamcha Baby Briefs' Daddy?' in some tabloid," Anya added casually before Bulma could speak up in her friend's defense and an argument started.

Vegeta's lips set in a straight line as she spoke. So. It was true. People did think that Bulma's former mate was his son's father. He found himself itching to know what the newspaper article said, but he'd be damned if he'd ask anyone to read it to him. Hell, he didn't want anyone to think he was even remotely interested.

But, of course, he was.

Damn.

He'd just have to steal the newspaper and attempt to decipher it later.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned to Bulma. "What is it, Bulma?" he asked. His voice was quiet, as though he was tired.

"I just..." Bulma trailed off with a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Shatsu, didn't you have something to show me in the lab?" Anya asked, herding the doctor out of the kitchen.

Vegeta waited until the kitchen door shut before speaking. "Look, I am not angry about the photograph," he told her in the same tired voice. "I just..."

"Don't like showing affection to me in public," Bulma finished in an equally tired voice. He wasn't looking at her, which made her feel even more uncomfortable about the whole situation.

Vegeta's eyes snapped over to hers. "You know why that is, why I choose not to have my photograph taken, and why I allowed it this once," he growled in an angry tone just short of shouting. "If anyone not native to this mud ball happens to recognize me, you are _dead,_ Woman, you and the boy at a minimum. I told you, everything and everyone associated with me has and will be used against me. Do not think that you are any different, or that your status on this planet changes any of that, because it does not, I assure you." His thoughts returned to the incident in the men's room at the mall. What were the odds that one of Frieza's lieutenants would come to Earth and happen across him? If he hadn't killed the man, who knew what could have happened? Bulma had been standing right outside of the restroom, and no doubt would have approached him despite the danger she would be putting herself in if she had thought something was amiss. It would have been evident that she at least knew him, making her a target.

Bulma was clearly upset by his words but nodded, biting at her lip as she did so. "I understand."

Cursing the ache his heart felt when she hurt, he drew her into his arms and held her close. "Stop this foolishness, Bulma," he murmured sternly.

She swallowed and nodded again. It hurt her that he thought her feelings were foolish, but she did understand why he felt that way. Instead, she chose to bask in the warmth of his embrace and the knowledge that _he_ had initiated it, something he rarely did unless he was attempting to lure her to their bed. "I love you, Vegeta," she whispered.

"I know."

* * *

"Vegeta, please. You can't go in there. Bulma's in a meeting..." Nuiko's voice trailed off as she helplessly watched Vegeta stroll by her without so much as a glance. She sighed. "Here we go," she murmured, knowing that inevitably one of these days the man would pop in while Bulma was in a meeting.

"So when you consider the potential profit margin of this project..." Bulma stopped mid-sentence as the conference room door opened. She'd heard Nuiko's frantic voice only moments earlier, and had hoped that it hadn't been for the reason she'd suspected. She'd been wrong.

"My GR is broken," Vegeta announced in an authoritative voice.

Bulma just kept herself from wincing at his appearance, let alone the interruption. He wore only his black training shorts and a beat up pair of sneakers. He had multiple cuts and abrasions on his body, including a large gash above one eye, from which a steady stream of blood trickled down the side of his head. To top it off, he stank to high heaven. "Vegeta, this is really a bad time," she began tiredly. "I'm in a staff meeting." The only saving grace about the situation was that he hadn't interrupted her earlier sales meeting, which had been with a very important client who was interested in one of her inventions.

"I can see that," he groused irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. "How much longer will you be? I need repairs completed as soon as possible."

Bulma suppressed a sigh. "I'm sorry, everyone. If you could give me just a moment, I'll be right back." She stepped out of the conference room, leading him out ahead of her and closing the door. It didn't help when she heard one of the women in the room comment '_damn_, he's fine' before the door shut. "Look, Vegeta. You can't just come barging in here whenever you want, especially when I'm in a meeting," she began, rubbing her fingers over her temples in little circles.

"My GR is broken," Vegeta reminded her. "I need you to repair it."

"I _know_ the GR is broken," Bulma responded calmly. "But as I said, I am in a meeting right now."

"I _know_ that," Vegeta responded in an equally calm voice. "Be glad I waited until the important part was over."

"All of my meetings are important!"

"More important than my training?"

Bulma opened her mouth to reply and closed it again. He had her effectively trapped. If she said that his training was more important, that would be giving him leave to burst in and demand her attention whenever he pleased. If she said the meeting was more important, she would offend and anger him. "Vegeta, if I didn't agree that your training was important, I wouldn't have made you the GR, your bots, the regeneration tank, any of it. Of course your training is important, but so is my work. I'm afraid that you'll just have to find something else to do until I'm done here. All right?" She found a clean spot on one cheek and pressed her lips upon it with a gentle kiss. "I love you."

Vegeta let out a disgruntled 'hmph' but said nothing. It was, as the woman had reminded him on prior occasions, her work that generated the large sums of money required to build, maintain and power his equipment. He knew her work was important, but that didn't make having to wait for her any easier nor any more entertaining.

"I know," Bulma continued in the same mild tone she'd just used to soothe him, "you could get cleaned up while my meeting finishes, then we could go to lunch. Maybe to Buffalo Bob's?" she suggested.

Vegeta's face brightened a little. "You mean the place with the large steaks and the avalanche ice creams?"

Bulma nodded, smiling at his obvious interest. "One and the same," she agreed. "Then I could get off a little early this afternoon after I finish up a few things that I have to get done today." She placed a kiss on his other cheek. "So what do you say?"

"I _suppose_ that would be an acceptable alternative," Vegeta grumbled, but she could tell that her compromise had worked and he wasn't irritated any more.

"Good. I should only be about half an hour or maybe a little longer." Bulma graced him with a smile before turning back toward the conference room. "Nuiko?"

"I'm on it, Bulma. Did you want me to mention Saturday?" Nuiko responded, as casually as if nothing had just happened. It certainly hadn't been the first time Vegeta had come plowing in to the office to complain that the GR had broken, he needed more bots, he was hungry, whatever. Sometimes they bickered about it. Most of the time she was able to pacify him. This was nothing new. In fact, what had just transpired had been quite sedate.

"Oh, right. I'd completely forgotten. Yes, thank you." Bulma blew her mate a kiss before disappearing back into the depths of the conference room.

"Saturday?" Vegeta asked, a bit of skepticism coloring his voice.

"Yes, I'll get to that." Nuiko picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. "Miwa, can you come up for a little bit, please? Thanks." She hung up the phone and gestured for Vegeta to follow him. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

"I do not require your assistance, Woman," Vegeta retorted irritably. "I am quite capable of tending to my own needs."

"Mmm-hmm. Just come with me, please," Nuiko repeated, heading for the medical facilities. "You need stitches for that cut on your face."

Vegeta let out a huff of impatience but followed the raven-haired female from the room. "Pushy females and their stupid hormones," he growled under his breath. "She'd better be done with this soon."

Nuiko managed to hold in her laugh. She suspected that 'she'd better be done with this soon' referred more to Bulma's current physical state of being than to her meeting. Bulma _did_ tend to become cranky, if not downright bitchy, during that time of the month. He did too, for a related reason, she was sure. "Okay, here we are," she commented to no one in particular. "Let's see whose shift it is."

"Hi there, Nuiko," a plump, brown-haired young woman greeted them. "I see you've brought my favorite self-destructive patient back for some stitches, hmm?"

Nuiko chuckled. "Definitely. He's got a gusher going on there."

The doctor came over to inspect her patient. "Sit down here, Vegeta, so I can take a look."

"I do not require any assistance," Vegeta repeated stubbornly.

The doctor pointed to a chair and crossed her arms, scowling at him. "Sit. Down. _Now_."

"You go, Doc," Nuiko praised the smirking physician, who'd obviously figured out by now how to bully the sulking man. "Come now, Vegeta. You're bleeding all over."

There was no sense in arguing with these women. Vegeta had already determined that, like all females, they would not shut the hell up until they got what they desired. Unfortunately for him, this particular physician was very touchy-feely, and had even made a comment once about what an 'exquisite specimen' he was.

Wonderful.

"Fine, just hurry up," he grumbled, sitting down where the doctor had indicated.

"All right, Saturday," Nuiko began as the doctor prepped her unwilling patient. "Bulma has a benefit party to go to Saturday night, so she asked me to order you a tuxedo. Her tailor is going to stop by with it for you to try on at four o'clock."

"What are you talking about, Woman?" Vegeta demanded, grimacing when the doctor made the first prick of her needle.

"None of that please, Vegeta," the doctor reprimanded gently. "I guess I should have warned you first."

"Bah, whatever." Vegeta waved that off; a little pain meant less than nothing to him and he always refused any type of anesthesia. "What are you talking about?" he repeated.

"Bulma has a social event to go to, and you need something nice to wear," Nuiko began. "So I called the tailor for you, since they already have all of your measurements on file."

Vegeta frowned, earning himself a poke to the ribs this time. "Why do I need such ridiculous clothing if it's her party?" He knew the answer, of course- that Bulma was obviously expecting him to go, too- but decided to give Nuiko a hard time.

"I know you're not that slow, Vegeta," Nuiko responded casually. This one wasn't going to get to her and still be in good with Bulma. She knew it and knew that he knew it, too. "Of course Bulma requires an escort, and you'd rip apart any other guy she went with, wouldn't you?"

"Damn straight. She's _my_..." Vegeta scowled again; he'd been caught. Especially after what had happened with those meddling photographers, there was no disputing her statement. "Damn it."

"Okay, four o'clock. And thank you, Dr. Kimura." Nuiko waved her goodbyes and left the medical ward.

"No problem," Dr. Kimura called after her. "You know, this would have been so much easier on us both if you'd have simply quit it with the faces." She snipped the thread and set her needle down. "Here, if you hold this against the stitches, they can probably come out in five or ten minutes. I didn't use butterfly bandages because the cut was so deep." She placed a cloth soaked with regenerative fluid against his brow.

"Whatever," the irritable man growled again, reaching up to hold the cloth against his head. He didn't need this insane female touching him any more than was necessary. "Party, hmph."

* * *

"Sir, I must say that it looks spectacular on you," the tailor commented, stepping back to view his handiwork. "Black is definitely a favorable color for you."

Vegeta scowled at his reflection in the full-length mirror. The ensemble reminded him of one of those silly-looking waddling birds that lived in the snow he had seen on a nature program on the television. "I look ludicrous, and these garments are uncomfortable," he balked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But Sir, it fits you just as it should," the tailor ventured hesitantly.

"Never mind that, we'll take it," Bulma interjected. "Why are you being so belligerent about this, Vegeta?"

"I was tricked into wearing these ridiculous garments and attending a stupid party where there will no doubt be more of these idiot paparazzi lurking around, and you think that I should be pleased about it?" Vegeta groused, scowling at her.

Bulma had to admit that he had a legitimate complaint and couldn't blame him. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. Mom and Daddy were going to go but something else came up that's more urgent, so now I have to go. I didn't know about it myself until today." She walked over to him and took one of his hands in hers, running her thumbs along it soothingly. "It would make me so happy if you would go with me."

Damn it. There were those pleading blue eyes of hers again. Vegeta let out a low growl but didn't respond.

"Nobu, I'll still take the tuxedo-"

"You are only wasting your money, since I will never wear this stupid thing."

"And," Bulma continued, ignoring Vegeta's irritable interruption, "a nice sports jacket and slacks for Saturday. You can get me that, can't you?"

"Of course, Ms. Briefs, it would be my pleasure," Nobu assured her. "In fact, I will bring several selections for you to choose from when I bring your new gown tomorrow."

"Nobu, you're a lifesaver," Bulma told him gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Briefs." Nobu collected his things. "We'll find you something suitable, Sir. Don't worry at all."

Vegeta had already changed back into his regular clothes by the time Bulma returned from seeing Nobu out. "Vegeta, believe me when I say that you looked very handsome in the tuxedo," she told him softly. She wrapped her arms around him and nestled her cheek into his chest.

Vegeta sighed. There was no way out of this without upsetting the woman. "Fine, I'll go," he growled. "But I refuse to wear that ugly garment."

"You don't have to," Bulma told him in the same soft tone. "And thank you, Honey. You've made me very happy."

"Hmph. You owe me for this, Woman." Vegeta scowled. He was growing softer and softer every day, and he hated it.

"Oh, I'll pay up." Bulma pressed herself up against him, inwardly pleased when she heard the soft rumble from within his chest and felt his arms encircle her. She kissed his cheek. "Tomorrow," she breathed in his ear, in a voice that never failed to arouse him.

* * *

"At least pretend that you're enjoying yourself," Bulma whispered out of the corner of her mouth as they entered the banquet hall.

"Whatever," Vegeta grumbled. He did not want to be there, but at least attending this function would serve to help put to rest any remaining rumors about Bulma's mysterious "boyfriend" and who the father of her son really was. He had to admit, however, that the woman on his arm, _his _woman, did indeed look very beautiful, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride because of it.

"Bulma! So good to see you!" A man and his wife came up to them.

Vegeta observed as Bulma greeted the people in an equally enthusiastic voice and began conversing with them. He wasn't pleased when the older man kissed her cheek in greeting, but reined in his temper; Bulma had warned him that people from different social backgrounds would be in attendance and that their customs meant no affront to him. She had also warned him about how he might be introduced.

"Do you remember my wife, Eri?" the man asked.

"Yes, of course! It's good to see you again," Bulma replied cheerfully. "This is Vegeta." She reasserted her grip on her mate's arm and gave it a little squeeze as she smiled adoringly at him.

"Hello there, Vegeta," the woman greeted him. "So, you're Bulma's boyfriend," she stated.

_Boyfriend._ Now there was a word Vegeta found to be truly distasteful; he was neither a boy nor the woman's friend. He was her mate. But Bulma had explained that 'boyfriend' was the closest word to describe their relationship that people would understand- reminding him that even Chi-Chi had questioned the meaning of the term 'mate'- and so for her sake he bit his tongue. "Yes, I am," he responded instead, willing himself to be polite to the lecherous old woman openly sizing him up. "It's good to meet you."

The woman hadn't seemed to have noticed his trepidation, especially when he gave her a suave smile, took her hand, and kissed it. She clasped her other hand over her chest and laughed in delight. "Bulma, I must say that you certainly know how to find a delightful young man," she cooed, thoroughly charmed.

Bulma laughed in response, but Vegeta could tell that it wasn't completely genuine. "Oh, he's a keeper all right," she cooed back, gripping his arm even more tightly. "Well, it was lovely talking with you."

As the older couple responded in kind and moved along, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction. If Bulma wanted to play this game, he'd play to win.

Bulma did not miss his smug expression. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Believe it or not, I _do_ have manners, when I choose to use them, Bulma," Vegeta responded smoothly. "Besides, if he found it to be socially acceptable to kiss my mate right in front of me, ought I not to return the gesture?"

Bulma found herself staring at him in shocked surprise and righted herself before letting out a little snort of indignance. "You're a real piece of work, all right."

"Yes, I must admit that this suit you've forced me to wear does look rather fetching on me," Vegeta answered innocently. A slow smile spread across his lips as he gauged her reaction out of the corner of his eye, although he made no pretense of hiding it.

Bulma chuckled and shook her head. "All right, let's mingle. But first, a drink." She lead him over to the bar and removed a few zeni from the tiny designer handbag she was holding. "Two glasses of red wine, please," she requested, putting the money into the tip jar.

"Here you are, Ma'am. Thank you very much and enjoy your evening." The bartender set the wine down in front of them.

"Thank you." Bulma picked up one of the glasses and took a sip. "Mmm, that's good," she murmured. "Vegeta, that one is for you." She watched as he sniffed his wine and took a tentative sip. "Well? Do you like it?"

Vegeta took another sip of the wine and nodded in approval. "It is different from the wine I have consumed elsewhere, but I find it to be rather palatable."

Bulma smiled, pleased by the notion that Vegeta just might behave himself and that the evening just might turn out well.

* * *

"Where did he go?" Frowning, Bulma scanned the sea of people in the room in an effort to locate her mate. It wasn't that difficult, as she rather easily zeroed in on his unique hairstyle. She found herself surprised since it hadn't taken her all that long to use the lavatory and freshen up her makeup, and in that short time he'd managed to wander to the other side of the room. She couldn't help but be concerned; although his behavior had been exceptional thus far, Vegeta was not the most personable nor social individual and until now hadn't left her side all evening, despite the fact that she could tell he was less than interested in the conversations she was having.

"I truly hadn't thought of it in those terms. What a fascinating concept you've proposed, Mr. Vegeta," she heard someone say as she made her way over to him. "I dare say you've given me a lot to think about."

"Indeed." Vegeta nodded politely and took another sip of his wine. It was white this time, meaning he'd gotten himself still another glass of it other than the ones she'd already seen him drink. The multiple glasses of wine didn't appear to be affecting him, however, as he was still fully alert and not the least bit lethargic.

"Dr. Morita, Dr. Ueda, how good to see you." Bulma took her place beside Vegeta and shook the hands of the men that he had been talking to. "I see you've met Vegeta."

"Yes, and we've had quite the insightful conversation, too," Dr. Ueda remarked.

"Really?" Bulma found herself decided curious. Dr. Morita nodded in agreement. "Oh, Vegeta, I almost forgot to mention that they've put out some more hors d'oeuvres if you're interested. I think I even saw some shrimp over there." No sooner had the statement issued forth from her mouth did Vegeta's stomach rumble audibly enough to be heard above the chatter in the room.

The two men laughed. "Go on," Dr. Morita urged. "You're obviously hungry."

A little embarrassed by his stomach's reaction to the thought of food, Vegeta politely dismissed himself and headed toward the smell of the food.

Bulma chuckled. "That worked. The man is a bottomless pit and he's quite fond of seafood."

"Worked?"

A smile played at her lips. "You _must_ understand, he'd probably never tell me what he was talking about that seemed so utterly fascinating to two world renown physicists, and I'm very curious." Her smile broadened. "Come on, you've both known me since I was in diapers."

"Oh, it's nothing secretive," Dr. Ueda told her. "Your boyfriend, I presume?" he began, pausing to allow her nod of confirmation, "has quite an astounding grasp on the subject of quantum mechanics. In fact, he had ideas that even neither us had ever contemplated."

Bulma knew she was gaping, stammering as she attempted to verbalize her thoughts. "Qu-quantum mechanics? Vegeta?" She turned her head to look back his way.

"Oh, yes," Dr. Morita agreed. Even I felt a little inept by some of the thoughts he presented while we were talking."

One blue brow rose, then her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "Okay, hold on a minute here. Are you two being serious or are you just pulling my leg?"

The two scientists exchanged a glance. Bulma obviously had no concept of the level of her boyfriend's intelligence. "We're very serious, Bulma," Dr. Ueda told her solemnly. "I told him to let me know if he ever needs employment. In fact, I'd love to see his credentials. Do you happen to know at what universities he was educated?"

Bulma just managed to keep herself from gaping at her peers again. "I... I don't know if he has any formal education," she stammered. "He's never mentioned it." She knew very well that Vegeta hadn't gone to school on Earth, but how could she say that if he had received education- other than what he had during the few years of his life before being taken by Frieza- that it would have been on some other planet? She'd be opening up an even bigger can of worms.

"Well, if that truly is the case, I'm completely astounded," Dr. Morita declared. "He has a better grasp than some of my top honor students at the university."

"Quantum mechanics. Well I'll be damned," Bulma muttered. She'd known that Vegeta was smart, but she had no idea that he understood anything relating to physics, much less anything that would boggle the minds of two of the smartest people she knew.

Dr. Morita chuckled. "I asked him what he does at Capsule Corp, and he mentioned helping you test some gravity simulation equipment, then gave a detailed summary on the mechanical engineering aspect of it as far as some moderations he'd thought of that he'd like to make. I must confess, I'm very curious to find out what else he knows."

"You and me, both," Bulma agreed, looking over to the hors d'oeuvres table. Her mate had a plate full of food and was currently engaged in a conversation with a young woman wearing a too small strapless red dress whom she recognized as an incurable chatterbox. He looked bored and a little irritated by his predicament, and Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "Uh oh. It looks as though Vegeta's been accosted by the lovely Ms. Junko Inoue."

The two men laughed at the look of desperation the prince shot their way. They too had experienced what he was going through; the girl was pleasant in appearance but sorely lacking in intelligence. "I think you'd best rescue the poor lad before she fries his brain," Dr. Ueda suggested.

"I'll do that," Bulma agreed, shooting them a wink as she headed Vegeta's way. "I'll have to catch up with you again soon."

She could hear the girl's vacuous chattering as she approached. "And I was like, 'oh my gosh, _no_ way!' Can you believe anyone would actually do that?" She giggled stupidly.

"Nope." Vegeta popped a bacon-wrapped water chestnut into his mouth and dropped the toothpick on his plate. "Hmm, not bad," he murmured. He'd have to mention these in front of Bulma's mother; if she got merely the notion that he might have thought they were good, she'd make him a whole platter of them. A tiny smile crept at the corner of his mouth. Sweet.

"I know! And even if I did, as _if_ I'd tell everyone about it, duh!" Junko giggled some more.

Bulma couldn't help but be amused. She knew even her own mother could be a little flighty at times, but this girl was just plain dumb. There was no other way to describe it. The only things she had going for her were her looks and an incredible body, neither of which seemed to be affecting her victim in the slightest. "Oh, there you are, Vegeta!" She walked over to him and took hold of his arm. "Hello there, Junko. I see you and Vegeta are having a nice conversation, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal him from you now. Bye!"

The girl waved cheerfully. "It was nice talking to you, Vegeta. Bye!"

"By the gods, Woman, what took you so long? I was about to either do her a favor and blast her, or kill _myself_ to escape her," Vegeta complained under his breath.

Bulma giggled. "I'm sorry, I hadn't realized that she'd ambushed you or I would have stepped in sooner." She ran her hand over his shoulder soothingly. "I don't need some pretty girl trying to sink her hooks into my man."

Vegeta snorted. "Prettiness is relative, Woman," he informed her. "I would rather have an ugly female who had brains than an imbecilic female with beauty."

"Oh, okay!" Bulma responded in an air-head voice. "That's totally cool!"

Vegeta shook his head. "Don't even attempt it, Bulma. It doesn't suit you. I suppose you will just have to settle for both."

Bulma blushed. "Thanks, Honey," she murmured. Although he'd never told her in as many words that he thought she was pretty, it wasn't the first time he had indirectly complimented her, she realized, recalling the time he'd mentioned never expecting 'such a mind _and_ the woman' when she'd shown him her plans for the regeneration tank.

"Hn." Vegeta said nothing, but allowed his infatuated mate to take his arm again.

Smiling fondly at him, Bulma leaned over to whisper in his ear. "There's just one more person who I have to talk to, then what do you say we ditch this party and have a party of our own?"

A slow smirk spread over Vegeta's face. "Sounds good to me," he agreed. "The sooner the better."

* * *

Bulma sat down beside Vegeta at the kitchen table with her sandwich and picked up the stack of mail she'd received. Sorting through it, she selected the most promising looking envelope and opened it. "Oh wow! Mom, my friend Kazue is getting married," she exclaimed, looking up from the thick cream colored card in her hand. "You remember Kazue, don't you?"

"Really?" Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands. "She's such a sweet girl, and the young man she's dating is a lovely boy. I'm sure they'll be happy together, and make such beautiful babies, too!"

"Mom..." Bulma groaned. It seemed that love and babies were all her mother thought and talked about.

Mrs. Briefs giggled, knowing what was going through her daughter's mind. "Think about it, Dear. You've got one of the two done already. I know! Why don't you and-"

Bulma interrupted her mother before the rest of the words could come out. It wasn't the first time her mother had dropped not so subtle hints, but it was the worst time she could have chosen to do so. "_Mother!_ For Kami's sake!" Absolutely mortified, she fled from the kitchen, not wanting to see Vegeta's reaction to her mother's behavior.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Briefs murmured unhappily. That hadn't gone well. "I hadn't meant to upset her."

"What's her problem?" Vegeta grabbed Bulma's abandoned lunch and dug in.

"I was just saying..." Mrs. Briefs suddenly realized what had made Bulma so upset- her boyfriend probably had no intention of getting married, and she was embarrassed by it being brought up in front of him. "I know that Bulma has always wanted to be a wife and mother," she mused. "Maybe she was a little jealous of her friend's wedding."

Vegeta swallowed and frowned at the older woman's words. He had mated Bulma and given her offspring. She seemed content and often assured him of her affections for him. What more could she desire? "What does this wedding of which you speak entail?" He thought he knew but wasn't quite certain.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. Vegeta was _such_ a dear young man. Maybe he would marry Bulma if he knew it meant so much to her! "Well, when two people decide they want to be together forever, they have a public ceremony where they pledge their lives to each other," she explained. "That makes them legally married, like Shatsu and I are." She sighed, evidently recalling her own wedding. "The bride wears a lovely dress, and there are flowers and gifts and dancing and dinner as the couple's friends and family celebrate together."

Vegeta's frown deepened. "That sounds like a ridiculous waste of time," he grumbled. "I suppose the woman will attempt to coerce me into escorting her, as she did for that equally ridiculous party we attended." He took another bite of Bulma's turkey on rye.

"I'm sure she'll ask you, Dear," Mrs. Briefs responded slowly, trying to hide her disappointment. It appeared that Vegeta wasn't interested in legalizing his relationship with her daughter after all. "The people who are invited to go are usually husband and wife or boyfriend and girlfriend. It's traditional to go with someone you love."

_Just what is this woman insinuating?_ Bulma was his mate, not his girlfriend- and certainly not a girl, what a ridiculous notion- or wife, or anything else. He thought he had made it clear that he had no intention of taking any other females to his bed, and expected that she too would mate with no male other than him. It was the way of Saiyan law, and once a male and female became mated, it could not be undone. He had made her his mate, his _princess,_ with that full knowledge. Why wasn't that enough? It suddenly occurred to him why Bulma had fled from the room. Did she wish to be joined to him according to human law? Saiyan law was enough for him. It must not be for her. He found himself becoming offended by the woman's lack of faith in him. Perhaps that was why she constantly reminded him of her affections for him, because she did not believe that he was serious about having only her for his mate. "Hmph." He pushed the empty plate away and got up from the table.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned upon hearing Mrs. Briefs' tiny voice. He hadn't responded, and she hadn't known what to think of his silence. "Do not concern yourself, Woman," he told her in a low voice. "I will deal with this myself." He left the kitchen without another word from either of them.

His woman's ki was in their bedroom, so Vegeta headed that way. His thoughts still puzzled him. Why was she so unhappy? Why had she not approached him with the idea of this human marriage ceremony if it meant so much to her? How was he to have known that it did? He frowned. Kakarrot had married his harpy mate under human law, and look how _that_ had turned out. How anyone could tolerate being eternally joined to- and claim to have deep affection for- such an irritable, insufferable female was beyond his comprehension, but, after all, Kakarrot _was_ a complete imbecile. Still, it was beyoond Vegeta's comprehension how the idiot simply didn't notice.

His son's cries interrupted him as he passed by the nursery door. Vegeta contemplated avoiding both situations entirely and allowing the boy's mother to care for the child, but opened the door and stepped inside. He peered down into the crib; his son's face had turned red from crying and his tightly balled fists shook as if in outrage. His cries became louder when his father entered his line of vision. Vegeta knew what that meant- pick the child up, or else hear it from both him and his mother for the rest of the day.

/All right, Boy, all right./ Vegeta leaned down and picked the crying baby up. /Enough of the crying./

The baby let out one final whimper and, before Vegeta had a chance to say anything else, rested his head upon his father's shoulder, his tiny hands fisting the fabric of his shirt in what could almost be called a veritable death grip.

Vegeta's surprise greatened when the boy let out a loud, contented sigh, wriggled a little, and closed his eyes again. "What do you want, Child?" he murmured. The seemed that the boy had every intention of going back to sleep, but Vegeta knew from experience that if he returned his son to his crib, the boy would start screaming this time.

"He just wants to be loved," a soft voice behind him answered. "You, out of everyone in this house, have proven to be the best one at providing that."

_Damn her! How does she always do that?_ "Nonsense, Woman. Infants do not require-"

Bulma would have none of it. "Don't give me that, Vegeta," she interrupted without even waiting to hear whatever it was that babies did and did not need. "He quiets almost immediately when you pick him up, even though it sometimes takes me twenty minutes of walking with him and bouncing him to get him to stop crying. He loves you. I can't explain it any other way."

"What was all of that about?" Vegeta asked a little testily, abruptly changing the subject.

"I... What was what all about?" Bulma came a few more steps into the nursery.

"Don't give me that, Bulma," Vegeta repeated her earlier rebuttal. "You know very well that I am referring to your behavior in the kitchen."

"I..." Bulma found herself at a loss for words. She knew he didn't value the same customs and traditions that she did. How could she explain to him how important it was to her, and had always been to her, to have the emotional security of marriage to the man she loved, without making him angry? How could she explain to him that it looked bad to the many traditionalists of the public eye for someone of her social stature to be unmarried with a child?

Fortunately- or perhaps unfortunately- for her, Vegeta grew impatient at her procrastination and decided to tell her what was on his mind. "I took you for my mate, Bulma. You were pleased by that, and pleased when you bore this boy. I told you that you belong to me and no one else, and that I will protect you and the boy always. Have I not done those things? Or do you believe that I was not truthful when I spoke the words to you?" This he said in a calm, low voice, still standing facing the crib and not having looked at her.

Bulma bit at her lip. Most likely her mother had explained the concept of marriage to him. She knew that Vegeta was no fool, and that her own reaction to what it was obvious that her mother was about to suggest had offended him. Even if he had not spoken a single word to her, she could see it in his very posture, in the way that his shoulders were especially squared and his chin was a little higher than he typically carried himself. The problem was, was he offended because he thought that she was demeaning values which were of great importance to him, or was it possible that he would actually have not been opposed to the idea of marriage to her and she had immediately dismissed it as something he would never do for her? She had never discussed it with him, as he had openly scoffed at Goku and Chi-Chi's marriage as well as some of the other common cultural aspects of the planet. In truth, she had been _afraid_ to approach the subject with him. However, based on the specific nature of the things he had just said, she determined that the cause of his offense had been the former rather than the latter, and felt a twinge of regret in her heart as she did so. "Vegeta, of course not. You broke a lot of traditions that I know are important to you when you and I became mates. I never thought you weren't being truthful with me." She paused but received no response. "Vegeta, please look at me."

He stood firm, not turning around.

Bulma took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm as she did so. "The things that are important to you are important to me too," she told him softly. "If they weren't, our son would have a much different name."

Vegeta did turn to her then, his dark gaze piercing into hers. He hadn't considered that. He sighed but said nothing and merely gave her the tiniest of nods.

Relieved, Bulma drew near and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Vegeta," she whispered before leaving the room.

* * *

Things were going just as she'd planned. Her parents had gone out for the evening, taking Anya, Geta and little Vegeta with them. Her baby was asleep. A bottle of wine sat perfectly chilled on the kitchen counter. She just needed one more thing.

Right on cue, the object of her thoughts came through the kitchen door. "What is it, Woman? I could be training." Vegeta paused when she held up the wine. She'd remembered that he'd liked the wine he'd had at the party she'd dragged him to. Perhaps it hadn't been a complete waste of time.

"We're alone right now, Vegeta. How about some wine?" Bulma purred, pleased when his eyebrow rose and a slow smirk slid over his face. "I started a fire. Maybe you could go add some more wood while I pour us some?"

Vegeta eyed the woman, who obviously was planning something. He hoped it was the same thing he had in mind. It appeared that perhaps this evening too might prove not be a total waste of time. "Don't keep me waiting long, Woman," he responded in a husky tone. He gave her a look that never failed to turn her knees to jelly and left the kitchen.

Bulma hurriedly poured the wine and took a tray of finger foods she'd prepared earlier out of the refrigerator. This was going wonderfully. Soon there would be no doubt in his mind how devoted she was to him and how very much in love with him she truly was.

Vegeta was squatting beside the fire, nudging at the newly added wood with a poker, when she entered the den. She set the small tray on the coffee table and took the glasses of wine, then handed one to him and knelt down on the floor beside him.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: These next couple chapters are proving to be quite difficult to write because I am a Bulma and Vegeta fan all the way and Vegeta is my favorite character. Sometimes I like to envision the scene in my mind as I go, or maybe even read it aloud, since it gives me a more realistic view of what's going on and a feel of how I would react were I in a particular character's shoes. It's funny how mood can affect my writing, too- or conversely, how writing can change my mood. Some of my angstiest stuff (try my fic 'Enter Sandman,' for instance, which gave me a creepy feeling to write) wasn't written in my best mood, whereas writing fun parts (such as in chapter seven, where Vegeta tears up the town in Bulma's Ferrari, one of my personal favorite bits) is easy in an upbeat mood. It's not fun trying to write characters you're fond of suffering, unless you excel at writing dark stuff (which I don't). Maybe that's why when I had time to write I put this aside for so long in favor of my fic 'Über Babe,' which is anything but angsty.

This chapter marks a major turning point in the story. I'm sure you've already grasped that it is not a happy one, but I hope you all stick around for the ride. It'll be a bumpy one.

Thanks go to my husband for reading this over for me and catching one glaring error in particular.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Vegeta untangled himself from his mate and slid out of the bed. He sighed heavily. His woman had kept him busy all week doing 'fun' things together. If he'd balked, claiming he needed to train, she'd used her feminine charms on him to change his mind. He hadn't made any real physical progress since arriving back on Earth after looking for Goku. He had to jump start his training somehow.

Space. It seemed to him that perhaps space was the answer. He'd made progress training while in space looking for that third-class imbecile. He could do it again.

And he'd be away from her.

Vegeta gazed down at the sleeping woman, hating that his heart ached as he did so. She was beautiful. She was amorous. She was a huge distraction to his training. She'd more than a few times come to 'visit' him in the GR with the promise of pleasure if he'd just take a moment's pause, one that generally turned into him abandoning his training for a good portion of the day as she lured him away to do other things. And, he was embarrassed to admit, just thinking of her as he was now had on more than one occasion made him abandon his training, seek her out, and tear off her clothing before-

He shook his head. He was forced to admit that it would be difficult to leave her to train in space, even though it was definitely his best option at the moment. Would she attempt to get him to stay with promises of new equipment, or perhaps something _else_ she was already very adept at providing? She probably would. He had to go. There was no other option but space.

Bulma rolled onto her side and pulled his pillow up against her, drawing in a deep breath. "Hmmm... Vegeta," she sighed, snuggling into the pillow. She was dreaming of him, that much was evident. When she had amorous dreams, she never turned him down. It would be so easy to climb back into the bed and take her right then and there.

Vegeta shook his head to clear it for the second time. That did it. He had to leave or he'd never make any progress as long as she and her delectable body were nearby. He took a quick shower and got dressed before opening his dresser drawers and pulling out the clothing he'd need for his journey.

He was putting everything into a pile when Bulma awoke. "Hey, Vegeta," she murmured. "What're you doing?

"Packing," he responded.

"I can see that." Bulma sat up in the bed and regarded him with confusion. "But why?"

He paused for a moment and stared at her before continuing on with his task. "I'm going to train in space."

Bulma got out of the bed and slipped on her robe. "But... why do you have to go away? Can't you train here?" she objected.

Her beautiful blue eyes were making this even more difficult than he thought it would be. He encapsulated the pile he'd just created and put the capsule into his pocket. Wordlessly he headed out to the GR, which he knew was well stocked with supplies in the event of an emergency, Bulma on his heels. What was he going to do? Perhaps if he could needle her into an argument, she'd get angry and back off. "The facilities here are inadequate for my needs," he told her curtly, "and you, Woman, are a distraction that I neither need nor want."

Bulma's face blanched. What had just happened? She'd had no idea he felt that way. "B-but... I... Vegeta, I had no idea anything was wrong," she said, astounded by his words. "Why didn't you say anything? You know I would-"

"Don't presume to tell me what I know," he interrupted curtly, further stunning her. "I don't owe you any explanations. Just know that I cannot properly train here any longer and I'm leaving."

"W-will you come back?" Bulma whispered, on the verge of tears.

"I said I need to train, Woman. Don't you think that that means I intend to fight the androids?"

"What about after?" Her voice was barely audible. "Will you come back home, or are you..." she trailed off, her mind dizzy with disbelief. _What happened? Yesterday we were fine, and today? I don't understand! How did things so drastically change so quickly?_ Her eyes pleaded with him for an answer.

Vegeta looked away, unable to stand the sight of her beautiful blue eyes brimming with tears. He crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing in response.

"I see," she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her tears and completely failing. "I don't understand what happened, but thank you for your honesty. I... I can't sit here and wait if there's nothing to wait for, or even to hope for." She closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath as tears slid their way down her cheeks. "I don't think I could stand letting my heart be broken again." Her lower lip trembling, she fought against the inevitable sobs she could feel rising in her throat and her face crumpled as she lost the fight for control. "Don't I even deserve an explanation? How can you do this to me? How can you just leave again?" she whispered.

He didn't respond, not trusting his mouth not to say the things he truly wanted to say, things that would deter him from leaving. He didn't look at her for the same reason. He'd never leave if he saw her tears, felt her warm body against his as she flung her arms around him. Instead, he ignored her, cursing the ache in his chest as he did so. She was his beloved mate, mother of his son. As much as it annoyed him to admit it, it hurt him to see her suffer, especially because of him. She would have to get over it.

She... she _would,_ wouldn't she? Why wasn't she angry with him for being selfish? Why wasn't she yelling at him?

"_Oh,_ Vegeta!" Clasping her hands over her face, Bulma stumbled away, running blindly for the house, away from the man she was desperately in love with, away from the man who had just shattered her heart.

* * *

Vegeta did not dare to look back at her retreating form. _Kami knows that all I want to do is tear off her clothes, throw her onto the bed and take her over and over again the whole day long. Damn it... I want to kiss her, taste her, caress that body, hear her moans as she writhes beneath me._ He held in a moan of his own. _That's why I have to go. I'll never be able to train adequately enough to become a Super Saiyan as long as she is near me._

He was startled from his thoughts by loud, slow clapping from behind him. Turning, he saw Geta leaning casually against the side of the GR and glaring angrily at him.

"Congratulations, you just drove away the first and only woman who will ever love you," he snapped, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"What the hell is your problem?" Vegeta snapped back.

"My problem? _My_ problem? Oh, only the fact that you continue to hurt my mother and couldn't care less about it, that's all. No biggie."

"I told you already that my dealings with your mother are none of your concern," Vegeta spat back.

"Oh! I see," Geta exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "To you, your relationship is nothing more than dealing with her, is that right?"

"I told you to learn your place. This is none of your business," Vegeta snarled. He didn't need his son lecturing him, especially since he knew nothing of the situation.

"And I told you that my mother's happiness is my business," Geta countered. "And as for learning your place, you could use a lesson or ten yourself."

"Really? Who's going to teach me a lesson on life? You?" Vegeta eyed his son angrily.

Geta regarded his father smugly. "I just might at that. You know damn well that I could mop the floor with your sorry, selfish ass any day of the week, Prince of all Assholes."

Vegeta went red with rage. "Mind your tongue, Boy! How dare you speak to me like this? I do everything I do for a reason, and for the last time, I don't owe you any explanations."

"I beg to differ," Geta replied smoothly, stepping forward a few paces to tower over his father. "After what you did to Mother, a lot of people are going to want explanations. You couldn't have just let her down easy, no, you had to hit below the belt, kick her while she was down, didn't you? Why didn't you slap her while you were at it, just for kicks?"

Vegeta was about to respond when he saw his son turn around abruptly.

Bulma grabbed Geta's shirt, yanking him down to her level and, before his brain could register what was happening, slapped him sharply across the face. "You mean like this?" she shouted, shoving her stunned son back. She lunged forward, finger pointed at him for emphasis. "Don't you _ever_ disrespect your father! Do you understand me?"

"Y-you're _defending_ him? After the way he treated you?" Geta exclaimed in surprise. "But-"

"But, nothing!" Bulma grabbed his arm again, steering him away a safe distance. "This is your father, not some little boy you think you can pick on because 'I'm bigger and stronger than you,' young man. You were right the day you arrived when you said that as your prince he deserves respect, but you haven't been walking the walk, just talking the talk, haven't you?" she hissed quietly. "Being your father makes him even more deserving of your respect, even if you don't agree with him."

Geta let his head hang, ashamed. "Yes, Ma'am, you're right," he murmured. "I apologize for my childish outburst, Father. This is between you and Mother." Unable to look his father in the eye, he leaned down to kiss his mother's cheek and headed toward the house. "I'll go check on the little ones," he offered quietly. After a few paces he stopped and turned, this time facing his father. "Good journey to you, Father." With that, he levitated up and flew to the house.

Bulma and Vegeta stood in awkward silence before she spoke. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "What a rotten mother I must have been." She stared down at her shoes.

"You are a fine mother," he contradicted her. He paused. "Why did you..."

"Come back out here? I wanted to give you this before you go," she answered, closing her eyes and inhaled deeply. _I will _not_ break down again._ She held out a capsule. "Just a little something I've been tinkering with. It's not quite finished, but I thought maybe you might find it useful."

Vegeta stared at the capsule for a few seconds before taking it from her hand, suppressing a shudder as his fingertips brushed the smooth skin of her palm. He nodded, as close to a thanks as he was able to allow at the moment, and dropped the capsule in his pocket.

"Well, uhm, have a safe trip, Vegeta," Bulma told him softly, but her voice wavered. "I... I just wanted you to know that I believe in you. I always have."

He looked up at her. She looked tired and worn down, but just as beautiful as ever. "Believe in me?"

She nodded. "I know you'll reach your goal. It was never a question of _if_ you would, just _when_ it would happen." She turned to leave but stopped suddenly. "I also wanted you to know that… that no matter what happens to us both, I'll _never_ stop loving you, Vegeta." She leaned in and kissed him quickly, choking out a whispered goodbye. Before he could see her tears again, she turned and ran to the house.

* * *

Vegeta collapsed onto his bed, completely exhausted. The grueling training regimen he was putting himself through was having little if any effect and he was growing more and more frustrated each day. He'd almost lost track of time as each hour of each day blended into the next on the small uninhabited planet on which he'd found to train.

Still breathing heavily, he slapped the back of one hand over his eyes, shielding them from the light shining in from the main area of the capsule. At times like this, although she claimed she couldn't quite understand how quantity made up for quality and not the other way around, Bulma would come in with a cool wash cloth and-

"Stop it, Vegeta," he scolded himself for probably the ten thousandth time since leaving three months earlier. "Why do all of my thoughts keep coming back to her?" he muttered. "We're both better off, aren't we?" He lay silently on the bed. _Yes, just keep telling yourself that and maybe that will make it true,_ his brain challenged defiantly. Vegeta refused to admit what he knew was true when it came to Bulma and pride came to his rescue. He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed, stretching and wincing when something popped in one shoulder.

Rising from the bed, he slipped on a pair of sweatpants and decided to find something to eat. As he padded over to the kitchen area, an object on the floor caught his attention. Leaning over, he discovered it was a capsule, the one Bulma had given him the day he'd left. "It must have fallen out of my pocket," he muttered. Curiosity got the better of him and he took the capsule to the training area to open it, seeing as he had no idea how large the object was inside.

The capsule opened with a puff of what he referred to as 'smoke' to reveal a zippered bag with a reinforced metal hanger on one end. "What the devil is this?" Picking up the bag, he discovered that it was actually rather heavy and took it back to the sleeping area, laying it on the bed. As he reached for the zipper pull, he noticed some writing on the bag. Upon further inspection, he recognized the symbols that he knew meant his name. "I should have learned to read and write this stupid Earth language," he muttered, pulling down the zipper. "Not that it matters… anymore…" He trailed off, speechless, as he pulled a near duplicate of the royal armor of the House of Vegeta from the bag. It was almost exact, right down to the royal insignia and colors she'd used. His shoulders slumped forward. The time and care she had put into the intricate details of the armor was evident, not to mention the extreme amount of research she'd obviously spent many hours conducting. "No wonder she was staring into that scouter for hours on end."

_No matter what happens to us both, I'll _never_ stop loving you, Vegeta._

"I'm an idiot. An honest to goodness flaming idiot." Vegeta let the armor drop onto the bed and ran a hand down his face in despair. "Damn it… Geta was right. What have I done? Why didn't I just tell her…" He sighed. "I should have just told her the truth."

Not feeling hungry anymore, Vegeta decided to try the armor she'd created. She had indirectly hinted that she was hoping he would, and that he'd like it. He changed back into his spandex suit and slipped the heavy breastplate over his head, pleased to find that it fit perfectly. The weight of it was evenly distributed and he could move easily in it, something his royal armor as a child had been lacking. Upon further inspection, he found that she had even included a new pair of white gold-tipped boots made of some sort of heavy-duty yet flexible compound she must have created based on remnants of his old armor. He slipped them on as well, shaking his head. "They fit like a glove," he muttered. He paused. Surely she hadn't... yes, she had. A pair of pristine white gloves lay at the bottom of the bag. He was tough on his gloves and she knew it. These, however, were made of a thinner version of the same stuff she'd used for the boots.

Feeling rather humbled, he didn't know what to say, what to think. She had precious little time to herself, even less after she'd given birth to their son, and she'd obviously spent the lion's share of it to selflessly and lovingly create something not only both useful and durable but intended to invoke a healthy feeling of pride for the race of the wearer- _him_.

He felt more ashamed of himself right then and there than any time he actually ever had before. He had done Bulma a favor by letting her go. She deserved better.

Better than what? Than the way he'd treated her? Or was it better than he himself?

He exited the capsule and stared out into the endless void of space, out into the direction of the woman he simply could not keep thoughts of and feelings for out of his mind. He sighed. Even though he didn't expect that she would want anything to do with him when he returned, he found himself wishing with every fiber of his being that he could hold her, kiss her, feel her soft, warm body pressed close against his as he made love to her just one last time before she was forever gone from his life.

He also regretted the loss of his son. _His_ son. Something he never thought would be possible after the destruction of his home planet. This child was his blood, his heir, and he had effectively turned his back on the babe as well when he left its mother.

How much he had lost for the sake of foolish pride.

Angry at himself now, he worked himself into a frenzy, attempting to banish thoughts of her from his mind, but nothing worked. The only thing his deliberate self-abuse resulted in was physical pain and trauma. _It's nothing less than I deserve,_ he thought bitterly.

He had intended to continue training when he detected a notable change in the atmosphere of the small planet. A creepy chill crept up his spine as glittering particles of space dust entered the atmosphere behind him, grating across his exposed skin and armor and leaving small surface cuts in their wake. He turned to look behind him and gaped in horror at what he saw.

It _wasn't_ space dust.

It was particles of a rapidly approaching asteroid, the largest one he'd ever seen, and it was currently heading straight for him.

_This is for the better. I won't be plagued with my loss any longer and Bulma will be able to get on with her life with me gone._ He sank to his knees in defeat and closed his eyes in expectation of his impending death.

A fist-sized fragment of the rock pelted his chest, momentarily stunning him as the force of it drove the breath from his lungs. Blood dripped from his lips as he dropped to all fours and opened his eyes, noting the large, jagged piece of shimmery space rock and the good-sized dent its impact had left in the breastplate he wore. "I'll be damned... if I hadn't changed into this armor Bulma made, I'd be a goner right now," he muttered.

He was about to chuckle at the irony of his words when a thought forced its way inside his mind.

_Just one more time before I die._

"No!" he screamed, forcing himself rather unsteadily to his feet. It was hard to breathe; the air was full of sharp fragments of the asteroid, and from the excruciating pain in his chest he had no doubt that his sternum and several ribs were crushed. The asteroid was getting closer. Even if he got into his ship and left right now, he'd never be able to escape it. "No! _Bulma!_"

* * *

A loud crash from outside shook the house, terrifying its occupants. :Geta!: Anya's mind screamed out to her husband's. :Geta?: She scooped up the two small children she'd been reading a bedtime story to and held them close.

:Shh, Anya. It's all right,: came the soothing response. :You'll never believe it. Father's capsule just landed! He came back!:

Anya winced. :Oh, boy... this isn't going to be very pretty when Bulma gets back, is it?:

:I seriously doubt it. She could be back any time soon, so I'd better fill Father in on the gruesome details before he finds out the ugly way.: She could sense Geta's mental sigh. :You should stay indoors and take care of the kids. Father certainly won't want an audience to his reaction to this.:

:I will,: she agreed. :But keep in mind, Sweetheart, that while I know you're hurt, what you've got to tell him will _crush_ him. You know in your heart that he didn't mean what he said to your mother.:

:You're right,: Geta agreed. :Don't worry, An. I'll try to put it to him as easily as possible.:

:I love you,: came her mental response. She could feel his smile.

:I love you too, Baby. I love you, too.:

* * *

Geta peered inside the capsule door as it slowly opened. "Father?" he called hesitantly.

Vegeta walked out of the door and straight past his son without so much as a hello. "Where is your mother? I must speak with her immediately."

Geta bit his lip. "Well, ah, she isn't here right now," he informed his father. He decided to just be out with it instead of making Vegeta ask a list of questions which would only serve to annoy him. He obviously wanted answers now. "She's... she's on a date, actually." He cringed as Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks.

"On a date?" Vegeta repeated hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure he actually wanted confirmation.

"Yes," Geta began slowly, "like I told you how I asked Anya out. On a date, remember?"

He watched as the muscles of his father's shoulders tensed up. "Explain," Vegeta demanded. "What do you mean that she's on a date?"

Geta crossed his arms and sighed. "All right, Father. I'm going to put it to you straight. No sugar coating the facts. When it became common knowledge that she was back on the market-"

"Back on the market?"

"You know, available? Single? Unattached?" Geta responded. Vegeta turned to face him and opened his mouth to reply when Geta interrupted him. "Honestly, what the hell did you expect, Father? Mother asked you straight out whether or not you were coming home, back to her life. When you didn't respond, of course she took it as a rejection of her.

"She cried and cried for weeks, Father. It got to the point where I couldn't stand walking into a room and seeing her burst out in tears, or almost, anyway, because at first glance she'd think of you. She overheard me asking Anya if she'd help me cut my hair short and freaked out, telling me I had better not do anything to my, quote," he wriggled the index and middle fingers of both hands, " 'beautiful hair.' Her words, not mine. I tied it back under a hat for a while until she told me quietly that I didn't need to do that. At least after that she didn't get that sad look so often anymore. Finally, it went away completely. But it almost got to the point that I just couldn't do it anymore."

Vegeta tried to speak but found himself uncharacteristically lost for words.

"It would have grown back," Geta assured him. My hair actually grows pretty quickly. I think a buzz cut would have looked pretty damn good with the beard, don't you?"

Vegeta still didn't know what to say. "I suppose so," he agreed with a small shrug, unable to visualize Geta minus the hair. He looked back to his son as he redirected the conversation back to its original topic. "So, about Bulma," he hinted softly.

Geta could hear the hurt in Vegeta's voice despite the fact that he was trying to sound casual about it. "Well, when it got out that Mother was no longer seeing her current boyfriend, it was like the eligible bachelor floodgates were opened. Men came out of the woodwork like you wouldn't believe wanting to date Mother.

"At first she turned them all down while she was still getting over you." He eyed his father. "I _told_ you I wasn't going to sugar coat anything, Father. This is your fault, not mine."

"Just get on with it," Vegeta growled, but it lacked the usual ferocity.

Geta sighed inwardly. "After a few weeks, she finally said okay to a couple of them but none of them ever got past one, maybe two dates." He smirked at the thought. "I think one of them I actually scared away. I guess he didn't like the insane seven-foot plus guy baring his fangs and snarling at him while threatening to feed him his privates if he dared touch his heh, 'sister' inappropriately, hehee..." He chuckled at the smug look of satisfaction on Vegeta's face. "_Oh,_ was she mad at me until Chi-Chi mentioned what a jerk the guy was later. She got over it.

"Then one of them who had known her pretty well from college came here on business and met up with her. When he found out why she so sad he used his common ground with her as a way to cheer her up. Hmph." Geta leaned against the capsule, arms crossed and looking disgusted. "When he asked her to dinner, Mother said she'd had enough of men, no thanks. But he was persistent and she finally said yes." He craned his neck closer to his father. "Sounds like something that just might work, hmm?" He raised an eyebrow. "Worked for _me,_ anyway."

"So, what exactly are you saying?" Vegeta asked slowly.

"I'm _saying,_ Father," Geta continued in annoyance that his father was in such denial, "that she took the bait, and that this is their sixth date in less than three weeks. He's even been over here for drinks. Oh, yes, you're right to look concerned. You know that Mother hasn't been indulging in much personal time lately, and-"

"I totallyscrewed up, Geta," Vegeta blurted out, eyes tightly shut and his face twisted in pain.

"No kidding. You think so?" Geta responded sarcastically.

"This isn't the time, Son!" Vegeta countered. "I don't know what I was thinking when I left that day. I know I could have just told her, 'look, I need to train extensively for a while and Earth isn't the right place for it,' but I didn't!" He turned away, hands clenched into tight fists and his head hanging down. "I told her she was a distraction and that was _true,_ but it was only because... because..."

"Because your feelings for her are so strong, aren't they?"

Vegeta didn't respond, but the slump of his shoulders spoke volumes.

"Father, this thing with Mother and this Hiroshi guy is serious," Geta informed his father. "I know, not only because of the number of times they've gone out, but because she comes home beaming and smelling like Old Spice."

Vegeta's head snapped up. "You mean she's... they're..."

The look in his father's eyes made Geta's heart wrench. "No, as far as I can tell, not yet. But it's getting too close for comfort for me. I don't like him, not one bit, and it doesn't have anything to do with yours and Mother's split," he responded. "There's just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. The worst thing is that I told Mother I could sense something off about the guy and she got angry and defensive, saying that just because you decided to leave doesn't mean she shouldn't be happy, and if I couldn't be happy for her to just back off. Ouch."

Vegeta felt sick to his stomach. "All I could think about while I was gone was her," Vegeta whispered in admission. "I couldn't get her out of my head. I guess I thought if she was angry at me, it would be easier to leave, easier to stay away. Obviously, I was wrong." He raised his eyes to meet his son's. "I... I don't know."

Instead of berating his father for refusing to let go of his pride and admit what was obviously true, Geta decided to pity him. He'd _never_ seen his father this way. His eyes spoke unuttered volumes of pain, longing, and regret. "You love her, don't you?" he asked softly.

"I... I don't know what love is, Son," Vegeta said in a low voice. "I don't know how to answer."

"She's the most important thing in your life, the only thing that actually matters, and you're a better man for it. She erases all of those little insecurities you battle every day and night, and you don't even notice them anymore after a while. When her eyes meet yours, she makes you feel like the greatest man in the universe, but those same eyes can make you feel pain, render you weak and helpless as a baby. Just knowing that she is _yours,_ that she belongs to you, and especially knowing that she wants you and only you as her own, gives you a feeling of pride and achievement, and you need nothing more. She is the most beautiful, sensuous and sexy woman you have ever even imagined. You hardly even notice the existence of other women. She makes your heart beat faster, your pulse race, and the desire you feel for her is far more than mere lust. When you kiss her, the world and everything else around you disappears. She can make your brain turn to mush with a mere look or touch, and holding her in your arms is something you revel in. Making love to her is the most incredible thing you have ever experienced, and you long for the next opportunity. Just thinking about it, about her, is enough to drive you to madness. She makes your life worth living; in fact, she _is_ your life, the reason you wake up every day. Without her, you're nothing, and there _is_ nothing, nothing worth living for." His face softened. "That's how I feel about my Anya, and I've only just scratched the surface. When I lost her, I wanted to die. The only thing that kept me going was realizing the possibility that I might be able to change things."

Vegeta had broken his son's gaze and was staring down at the ground. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "She's all that and more," he confessed in a tiny voice. "I _need_ her, Son. I... I'd do anything if it meant I could have her back... have her for my mate again. I don't think I can live without her."

_Kami have mercy, he's worse off than I imagined he could ever be. I _never_ expected this from Father of all people._ The pity that Geta had felt earlier returned in spades at the sight of the proud and powerful Prince of Saiyans reduced to a lovesick, heartbroken shell of a man. "Father," he began softly, "would you really and truly do anything to have Mother back?"

"Anything," Vegeta agreed soberly. "I... I have nothing left. My pride is spent."

_If he's just admitted that he loves Mother and would do anything for her, I've got to do this. _"I'll support you, Father. But you ought to know, and I won't lie to you, that I _do_ have my own selfish reason for doing this that has nothing to do with either yours and Mother's happiness or preventing VJ from growing up in a broken home," he admitted, noting the shocked look of surprise on Vegeta's face. "So yes, I too have a lot riding on this."

Vegeta's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly in surprise. "I had thought your reasons would center mainly on the boy, or perhaps your Mother, since you have been so vehemently protective of her welfare," he responded slowly. "What could you want more than that?"

"That is none of your business right here and now," Geta informed him tersely, "suffice to say that I unintentionally changed something I had _not_ wanted to when you left Earth after I told you about the androids. Let me put it to you this way, Father. I remember you treating me and especially Mother like garbage. You did whatever the hell you felt like, without any regard for her feelings. You never even asked how she felt on a matter. If you wanted to leave, you left, and only Kami knew when you'd return. Sometimes you didn't even announce that you were leaving; other times were like the bullcrap you pulled this time. Mother in tears, asking where you were going and when you'd return. That's why I got so indignant that day; it was déjà vu all over again. I didn't like it then and I won't tolerate it now. At least those times you gave some indication that you would come back when you felt like it. Mother was so head over heels in love with you that she waited around for you. Poor woman," he added indignantly. "So, no. This has nothing to do with you, Mother or that little boy in the house. If it did, do you honestly think I would risk it?"

Vegeta actually had the grace to look embarrassed. "I don't know how to respond to that, Son," he admitted in a low voice.

"Well, I do. _Don't._ You can take advantage of what I just told you and try to make things better for us all, or you can say to hell with it. Your choice. But based on your current situation..."

"It's not even a choice right now," Vegeta retorted, a glimpse of his character showing through his voice. "So... what do I have to do?"

Geta levitated into the evening sky and took a fighting stance. "For now, we fight," he announced. "I'm tired of sparring with my wife and letting her bust my chops because I can't bring myself to belt her in the gut." He grinned sheepishly. "Now get up here so I can kick your ass like you need it."

"Hmph. You're welcome to give it a shot, you loud mouthed punk," Vegeta replied confidently, levitating up himself. "Oh, wait... there's something I wanted to show you first." He settled back down and reentered the capsule.

"What is it, Father? You're not setting me up or anything, are you?" he asked suspiciously, following his father into the capsule.

"No, now come here," he demanded. "You'll find this more than a little interesting, I assure you." He pulled out a capsule and opened it. "Take a look at _this_. I obviously haven't been able to analyze the chemical composition of this stone to confirm my suspicion, but..." He looked up over his shoulder at his son expectantly.

Geta's eyes got big as saucers. "Great Kami, is this what I think it is?" he exclaimed. Bulma had shown him pictures before she'd died of a very rare stone, one that was cosmic in nature. This particular stone was the remnants of planet Wethion, which had exploded hundreds of years ago, leaving several large pieces hurtling through space. Once in a great while, fragments from one of the pieces would break away due to the gravitational pull of whatever planet it was passing and enter its atmosphere. Since the rock rarely passed Earth, it was an extremely rare occurrence to find a fragment. If this was truly the same type of rock...

"I do believe so, and there's a whole container of capsules just like that one over in the control area. Eleven of them, in fact." Vegeta crossed his arms, smirk in place. "At least your mother's little boyfriend can't claim I'm only a pauper after her money."

"Uhm, no." Geta looked up from his father's discovery in awe. "Actually, you're a rich man. Very, _very _rich, in fact. Disgustingly, no one should _be_ this rich, rich..."

"Okay, I get the picture." Vegeta pulled one more capsule, the one Bulma had given him, out of his jeans pocket. "But if I had to make a choice between those capsules and this one," he began, tossing Geta the lone capsule, "I'd pick this one. It's far more valuable to me."

"Can I open it?" Geta asked. _What could possibly be more valuable than a dozen capsules of Wethion?_ When Vegeta nodded his consent, the excited young man pushed the trigger and tossed the capsule down to reveal a heavy zippered bag, which he all but tore open in his haste. Suddenly, his face fell. "It's some beat up armor, Father."

"Not just any armor, Son._ Look_ at it. Your mother created the substance it's made of by studying my old armor's properties and expanding on them. It's a hundred times better, and genuine Saiyan armor is tough stuff." He traced a finger along the edges of the large dent. "How else do you think we Saiyans were able to survive resistance attacks to our vital areas while purging? Or how the armor grew with us when we went Oozaru? The molecular structure of this stuff is amazing."

He went over to the canister he'd mentioned and removed a large, jagged chunk of the Wethion stone from it. "Do you have any concept of what the amount of damage caused by the force of something this sharp and dense being propelled at only Kami knows what velocity would be? Imagine that, hurtling directly into your chest." He indicated the area with one hand. "Your mother's armor stopped this stone from splattering me into a fine, red mist. Even so, I still needed a senzu, because not only were my sternum and several ribs broken, but I had some internal bleeding. I know because I coughed up a lot of blood. Not even my Saiyan armor could have done that."

"Kami," Geta whispered, astonished. "I guess I see why you wanted to talk to Mother so much."

Vegeta shook his head. "I changed my mind. Not a word to her, at least not yet. The armor itself didn't change my attitude, my... my feelings toward her. Of course I'm grateful she gave me it; after all, it saved my life. But I don't need her or anyone else thinking that I am only offering her my gratitude, and wanting her back as my mate is my way of expressing that."

"And?" Geta prompted, interested in his reason.

"When I realized that what I thought was an asteroid this stone came from was headed straight for the planet I was training on and that it would easily pulverize it, I didn't care. I knew I had made a huge mistake. Bulma wouldn't want me around anymore, and who could blame her? I wanted to die, let it all be over. So I just closed my eyes like a coward and waited for the inevitable," Vegeta confessed.

"But then this rock hit you." Geta waited to hear it from his father's own mouth.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes. Realizing that I should have been killed made me think of all of the time and effort she put into creating this armor for me. For _me._ Even after what I had done, she still wanted me to have it. It made me realize that even if she never wanted to see me again, that I didn't want to die, that I cared about her, that I needed to see her one last time. I needed to hold her, and Kami willing, to... have her just one last time before I died."

Again, Geta had never expected such sentiment from his father, but hid it. "How did you get away?"

"Sheer willpower. It's amazing what you can accomplish when you're in a do or die situation. After the rock blew up, I gathered up some of the fragments," Vegeta explained, dodging the question. "Now, let's go spar."

Geta nodded. "This is fantastic," he exclaimed as they exited the capsule. "What a find!" He paused. "Are you going to give Mother a cut since it _is_ her ship you used to get it?"

Vegeta gave him an annoyed look. "Why the hell should I? If you want to get all technical on me, I'm the one who stuck his neck out, not just to get this stuff, but to field test her armor. I should have died, remember? When she finds out how filthy rich, or rich_er,_ she's going to end up over this, hey, maybe she owes me." He shrugged. "Six and one-half dozen, don't you think?"

"I guess so," Geta agreed. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

Vegeta snickered at the look on his son's face, and took on his favorite fighting stance. "You're so easy," he crowed, shooting forward like a rocket and landing a series of punches to Geta's belly, doubling the much larger man over. He backed off, allowing him to regain his breath. "Never look away from your opponent, Son. You know that. And what do I need ugly disputes over money for? As long as I'm able to live comfortably, I get all the training equipment I want, and I get joint custody of Vegeta, if she wants it that much, she's welcome to it."

Geta's eyebrow rose. Two things about his father's statement had caught his attention. One of his father's conditions had been joint custody. Didn't he plan to stick around, as long as Bulma had no objections? _I guess I wouldn't want to watch Anya with anyone else, either,_ he admitted.

Secondly, Vegeta's voice had had an undeniably sad tone to it.

This time it was Geta who didn't know how to answer. He didn't get the chance anyway as Vegeta renewed his attack.

The two fought for a good half hour or so, neither really managing to get the best of the other. It was quite cold out and growing dark now, and since Geta had trained by himself all afternoon, he was tired and ready to call it quits for the night. It was undeniable that his father's training in space had made a marked improvement to his strength and stamina, however, and Geta wasn't about to toss in the towel and reinflate Vegeta's toned-down ego.

"It's getting late. I'm ending this, Father," he called out.

"Aww, giving up already are we?" came the mocking reply. "I'm disappointed, Son."

Geta's smirk rivaled his father's. "Not hardly, old man!" he retorted. Fists flying with renewed vigor, he took advantage of a tiny break in Vegeta's defenses and kicked him in the gut, hard.

Vegeta landed with a thud and a grunt at the same spot where the tree that Goku had sent him flying into earlier had once stood. "All right, you little punk," he growled, wiping the snow from his clothes, "you asked for it, and I am going to give it to you!"

Geta grinned as his father rocketed for him. "Bring it on. What else do you have up your sleeves that you haven't- _Kami!_" he shouted, startled by his father's sudden brilliance followed by an uppercut, a roundhouse and a good hard two-fisted hit which sent him racing for the ground. He got to his feet, teetering slightly for a second before shaking it off and gaping at Vegeta, who had touched down nearby. "You didn't say you had ascended!" he shouted accusingly.

Vegeta merely shrugged, his arrogance as evident as the golden aura his body projected. "You didn't ask. Besides, how _did _you think I had destroyed that asteroid?" His smirk grew wider. "I was simply masking it as you are so fond of doing. You're right, it really is a good idea."

"Smart ass."

"Punk."

* * *

Bulma unlocked the front door and let herself and Hiroshi in. She was laughing loudly at whatever had just been said. "Oh, Hiroshi," she giggled, you're completely hopeless, you know that?" She draped their coats over a table by the door.

"Only when it comes to you, my sweet," he murmured, putting an arm around her waist and drawing her close. He took her chin with his other hand and kissed her. Relaxing into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning in kind.

She broke the kiss and took his hand. "Let's go get a drink," she suggested, smiling sweetly at him. He didn't disappoint.

"Lead the way, Princess," he replied in a deep voice.

From the den, Vegeta growled lowly. "Princess, hmph." He looked down at the baby on his lap. "If the idiot only knew, huh?" He held the boy up, looking into the little face. "What do you think about that, huh?"

VJ wrinkled his nose. Stuffing one chubby fist in his mouth he promptly drooled down the front of his bib.

Vegeta had to laugh. "I wholeheartedly agree with you. _Nasty,_ isn't it?" He leaned back in the armchair casually, knowing the two were headed to the den and the mini bar that Dr. Briefs, who enjoyed the occasional nightcap while reading, kept stocked there.

Bulma giggled again as she lead Hiroshi into the den. Neither of them noticed the Saiyans sitting nearby the fireplace, for the room was dark otherwise. She suddenly pulled away from him. "Stop that," she insisted, swatting his hands away as he reached over to grab her backside. "I'm not that kind of girl." She had originally meant it as a joke, but the mood in the room was changing rapidly.

"Sure you aren't," he contradicted her, grabbing her around the waist to pull her close again. His hands traveled down her hips.

"Hi-Hiroshi, I'm not sure..." She giggled again, but Vegeta's sharp ears detected the nervous tone behind the laugh. "This is just a little too fast for me." She leaned back, away from his intended kiss. Her hands were on his shoulders, pressing him away. "Hiroshi, I- mmph!"

He broke the kiss and pulled back to look at her. "Aww, come on, Babe. What's the matter?" He scowled. "Don't I compare to your kid's lousy fath-"

"Bulma! Good to see you. You're looking well." She jumped and let out a little shriek at the sound of the deep voice from the other side of the room.

"V-Vegeta?" Bulma stammered, shocked to find him back so unexpectedly. She blushed, mortified that he'd been witness to Hiroshi's behavior and glad for the dim lighting hiding her blush. She thanked Kami for the fact that Vegeta had interrupted the slur about to spew from Hiroshi's mouth, although she knew in the back of her mind that the odds were good that Vegeta had been observant enough to catch it and prudent enough to save her the embarrassment Hiroshi was about to cause. That in itself surprised her; her first guess would have been that Vegeta would attempt to turn her unfortunate date into a punching bag.

"In the flesh," Vegeta responded, his voice not revealing any reaction he might have had. "I apologize for startling you and your friend. I was already in here sitting by the fire with our son when you came in."

"Oh. It's okay," she said, still flustered. "When did you get back?"

"I suppose it was too dark to notice the capsule outside," he answered politely, although if he had his way, he would be using this perverted creep for target practice. _What kind of person _is_ this she's dating? I can see why Geta doesn't trust this human. No one touches my woman that way..._ The back of his mind reminded him that human mating customs were quite different from Saiyan customs, and she was not his any longer by their standards. She belonged to another male now, despite the mark that he, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans, had left on her. That was the deepest cut the severance of their relationship had left him. "I only got back a couple of hours ago."

"I see," she responded awkwardly.

Silence permeated the room until Hiroshi spoke up. "I take it that this is your kid's father, Babe?"

_'Your kid's father.' He doesn't even care that my son has a name. And how many times has he called Bulma 'Babe?' This prick has no class whatsoever._ Vegeta forced out a little chuckle. "That would be me," he made out between clenched teeth. _Never mind that I already confirmed that earlier. Stupid ass._ Forcing himself to be civil for Bulma's sake, he gathered up VJ in one arm and extended his other hand out to Hiroshi, ignoring the feeling of distaste the thought of touching this human elicited. "I am Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans," he offered.

Hiroshi turned up his nose at the shorter man. " 'Prince of Saiyans?' Well, aren't we a little full of ourselves tonight," he accused.

"Hiroshi!" Bulma objected, turning pink with embarrassment. _Oh Kami, please don't let him react badly!_ she begged silently, well aware of how proud Vegeta was of his heritage.

Vegeta blinked at him in surprise. Wasn't this an educated man? Even he himself, a royal, knew to kiss up to people during formal occasions, which would include introductions, even if you did not like the individual. He had learned that lesson the hard way while working for Frieza. He lowered his hand, frowning. "I beg your pardon? Ahh, I see. I've confused you," he responded, a condescending edge to his voice. He preened inwardly upon noticing that he had obviously offended his rival and continued on innocently. "Unlike many of you humans, I do not have what you call a surname. I am of the House of Vegeta and I was born into the title along with the name. I did not bestow it upon myself." His face remained emotionless. "Unless, of course, you would prefer for me to call myself 'Vegeta Briefs,' as is the case with my son." He put his free hand over the baby's side in what could almost be described as protectiveness.

Bulma promptly went from pink to beet red. In her upset, when relating her son's father to Hiroshi, she had unwisely revealed some of his less dignified personality traits, including his haughty pride. "Kami, where are my manners? Vegeta, may I present Hiroshi Takashita. He's the Senior Vice President of one of the companies we just signed a contract with." The underlying statement portrayed in her voice clearly demanded cooperation from both men.

The two grudgingly shared a handshake, but before it could even be done properly, Hiroshi yanked his hand away. "Oh, that is disgusting," he complained loudly, waving his hand in the air as if to rid it of something foul.

"Vegeta," Vegeta mock scolded his son, "that's icky." He chuckled heartily. "Sorry, baby drool. I guess I didn't notice when it got on my hand." In truth, Vegeta had covertly wiped his hand over the teething baby's lip just before extending it the second time. Bulma had noticed, but Hiroshi had not. "You need to be more careful where you drip, Son." He smiled cheerlessly at the pair standing before him. "I suppose I should go give him a bath before he's up all night. Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Shakatia." He nodded and left the room. "Or was that 'Shiitake?' No, wait. That's a _mushroom,_ isn't it? Tashataki? No, that's not it either..." His voice trailed off as he walked down the hall.

Hiroshi fumed with rage. "I have never been so insulted in my life!" he seethed, fists clenched and face red. "How could you just stand there and let him behave so contemptuously toward me?"

"Hey!" Bulma objected, insulted. "You can't deny that you deliberately offended him on several occasions, Hiroshi. I could tell he was doing his best to be polite to you and the only reason he made jabs at you was because you started it!"

Hiroshi sighed. "That is so childish, Bulma. 'You started it,' " he repeated, a mocking tone to his voice. "I don't want to see him again the next time I'm here."

Bulma glared at him. "News flash, Hiroshi. He _lives_ here. You haven't even given him a fair chance. I'll deal with him, okay? I'm not going to kick him out just because you don't like him."

"Why not?" Hiroshi demanded. "He's obviously a loser, Bulma. First he's irresponsible enough to get you in trouble and now he's mooching off of you because he's too much of a lazy bum to get a job like any self-respecting man would do, especially one with a child."

Bulma's jaw dropped. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," she exclaimed. "You don't know anything about Vegeta! How can you make such assumptions about someone you don't even know?"

"You said yourself that he walked out on you twice," Hiroshi countered. "Only a pathetic loser would do that to his family. And oh, yes. If he was any decent type of man he would have at least offered to marry you after he knocked you up."

"I think you'd better go now," Bulma growled through tightly clenched teeth. "I can't believe you're acting this way."

"Don't worry, Baby. You'll see his true colors soon enough." He kissed her on the cheek and headed for the door. "You've already had a glimpse of them. I'm sure you'll see even more." The door shut behind him.

"Oooh! The nerve of that man!" she muttered on her way up the stairs. She had intended to check on the baby when she heard water trickling in the bathroom. The door was partly open, so she peered inside.

Vegeta had their son in the sink and was dribbling water over the baby's head with one hand, carefully rinsing baby shampoo out of his hair. /If you don't quit squirming, young one, you're going to get soap in your eyes,/ his voice rumbled softly in a tongue that Bulma did not understand. He couldn't help but smile at his son, who had smiled broadly at him and patted his wet little hands at his father's face while making happy little cooing noises. /We wouldn't want that to happen, would we?/ "Bulma, instead of standing there peeking in on us, why don't you help hold him still so he doesn't get soap in his eyes?" he suggested in the same soft voice, switching back to Standard.

She opened the door enough to get through and held the squirming baby upright in the sink, holding a hand above his eyes. "That was Saiyan you were speaking just now, wasn't it?"

Vegeta nodded and dribbled more water over the baby. "Yes," he confirmed. "The child should know the language of his heritage." He finished rinsing their son and held a soft towel open for her to place the baby upon.

"I agree with you," she commented, lifting the still squirming baby from the sink and depositing him into Vegeta's waiting arms. She was just about to say something else when he beat her to it.

"That man _insulted_ my son," he snapped bitterly, "_our_ son, Bulma. And before you become angry over my justified indignation, remember that you just now agreed with me that our son's heritage is important."

"Vegeta, he didn't mean-"

"Let me finish," Vegeta interrupted. "It was evident before he even spoke a word to me that he hates me. Is that because he has been related unflattering stories about me? That he views me as a threat? Or is it because he hates anyone he considers below himself?" He scowled, gently drying the baby off. "What will I find the next time I take my attention away from this boy? His tail missing, perhaps?" He dried his son off and carried him into the nursery in a very possessive manner.

Bulma gasped at the very idea of it, then scowled. At the time, she'd been too shocked by his sudden appearance to be angry, but her anger quickly returned. "Oh, give me a break, Vegeta," she snapped as she followed him to the nursery. "Why on Earth would Hiroshi want to harm a defenseless baby?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Vegeta countered as he laid their son onto the changing table, where he began to diaper and dress him. "He doesn't even know 'your kid's' name, Bulma. He's known me for all of five minutes, and as I have already said, he already hates me, the boy's father. Why wouldn't he hate my son also? Perhaps he would consider it to be a favor, so the boy will be a tailless freak instead of just a freak."

"Vegeta, you're overreacting!" Bulma shouted. "Hiroshi isn't going to hurt anyone, much less my son!"

"Oh, you keep telling yourself that, Bulma," Vegeta retorted. "I saw the way he disrespected you, groping you so shamelessly despite your objections. What makes you think he won't strike you as well?" He situated VJ in his crib and left the nursery, shutting the door behind them.

"You think _Hiroshi_ disrespected me?" Bulma asked incredulously. "You've got a lot of nerve, you jerk! After what you did to me, you should be glad that I don't throw you out on your ass right here and now!" She scowled at him in anger.

* * *

Dr. Briefs lowered his window as the car pulled up the driveway. "Bunny, look!"

"What is it, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked, peering out her own window. She could just see the object in question past the side of the house. "Oh! Is that Vegeta's space ship?"

"Yes, it is." Dr. Briefs sighed. "I do hope someone managed to speak to him before Bulma returned." The porch light was off, indicating that Bulma had indeed returned from her date.

Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands together anxiously. "He'll be upset, the poor dear," she murmured quietly. "I know he loves Bulma. I just don't understand what happened between them."

"I mean to find out, Bunny." Dr. Briefs parked the car, glad that he had decided to drive himself instead of calling one of their drivers. No one else needed to see what would inevitably happen between his stubborn daughter and her equally stubborn ex-boyfriend.

"Oh! Shatsu, it's raining," Mrs. Briefs told her husband as she exited the vehicle.

"I'm hurrying." Dr. Briefs encapsulated the vehicle and hurried inside with his wife.

As they entered the house they could plainly hear shouting. Exchanging a glance, both quickly headed for the stairs.

"Oh, I get it. Just because you decided to come back here, now I'm supposed to give someone who actually _cares_ about my feelings and opinion the boot and welcome you back with open arms? I've given you far too many concessions already! You must be joking!"

"I never expected that, Bulma."

His voice took her by surprise. He hadn't yelled; in fact, it was hardly more than a murmur. "All right, then why _did_ you come back here, if you don't want anything to do with me?"

He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "I didn't say that, either."

"Then what the hell _do_ you want, Vegeta? Why would you come back here? Was there something else equally hurtful and offensive you left out before you walked out on me that you felt you needed to add?" Bulma shouted indignantly.

Vegeta sighed again. Every word was like the twist of a knife in his heart. But he didn't deserve any better. "If it means anything at all, Bulma, I'm sorry that I-"

"Save it," Bulma interrupted, holding up a hand. "You're sorry. _Nice._ Is that supposed to help your cause or something? Did you expect me to think that you meant it, and even if you did, that it would change anything?" she spat sarcastically.

Vegeta recoiled as if he'd been struck. "I did mean it, Bulma, and I _am_ sorry. I didn't mean what I said the day I left. I was stupid and prideful and I made a mistake, a huge mistake." He stopped before his voice betrayed him, very close to breaking down. He hadn't been this emotionally affected since Namek.

Since Frieza killed him. Since he died.

This was far worse than dying, because he still had to deal with the pain of his loss. The guilt and loss he'd experienced from being unable to both prevent the destruction of his entire race and to avenge it was like a drop in a bucket next to this.

"You're absolutely right," Bulma told him in a quiet voice. "It was a mistake." Her eyes were cold as they fixed on his. "There's an expression here, Vegeta, which you might have heard. 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' Well, there isn't going to be any 'shame on me' this time, because I learned from my first mistake. I'm not going to repeat it."

The icy resolution to her voice chilled him to the bone. He knew what she meant- letting him back into her life after he'd left the first time had been a mistake. She wouldn't do it again. There was nothing left in her heart for him. He'd destroyed the absolute love and devotion that she'd once felt for him. He hadn't realized how truly he treasured it, treasured _her,_ until this day. If love was even remotely as Geta had depicted, then Vegeta knew now that the unnamed feeling he'd long had for Bulma was love, a deep, intense love that he couldn't begin to describe. She'd felt that way too, for a while. And he'd thrown it away.

He couldn't believe he'd thrown her away, all for the sake of his pride. His damned _foolish_ pride.

What could he say in response to her? He felt like a wilting plant, every bit of life having been sucked out of him, with nothing left but an empty shell of what once was.

Before anything else could be said, a throat clearing broke the painful silence, and both Bulma and Vegeta turned their heads toward the source of it.

There, at the top of the stairs, stood Dr. Briefs, his wife a stair below him.

"Daddy," Bulma whispered.

Vegeta's eyes widened momentarily when he saw the man he'd actually come to respect looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Unable to face him, since the older man couldn't possibly hold better feelings about him than his daughter did, he dropped his eyes downward.

"I see you're back, Vegeta." Dr. Briefs noted that the young man standing before him actually looked ashamed and very disheartened. He'd seen the look in Vegeta's eyes when the meaning of Bulma's words had sunk in. The very life in his eyes had faded, as if someone had pulled his plug, so to speak, hurt realization taking its place. The doctor himself had been hurt and confused about Vegeta's treatment of his daughter and had pondered for quite some time as to _why_ Vegeta had done what he had, _what_ had driven him to do it, given the recollection of how tenderly he'd seen the prince touch and kiss Bulma on more occasions than Vegeta was probably aware of. But that look, the downtrodden, hopeless, and distraught look of hurt and despair in Vegeta's eyes had only confirmed the suspicions shared by he and his wife: Vegeta did indeed care for and even love their daughter. Dr. Briefs privately suspected that Vegeta hadn't known how to express that without feeling like less of a man. Instead, he'd done what he _did_ know how to do, and that was to hurt her, in the hopes that she would shrink back instead of questioning his motives. Unfortunately for him, it hadn't exactly worked out as planned.

It was all too obvious. The man was ashamed, hurt and embarrassed; why else would he refuse to look at him? The only acknowledgement he gave was a tiny nod of his head.

"The ship was fine?"

Vegeta did look up then, shocked astonishment evident on his face. "Y-yes, I... it was... it was fine," he stammered uncharacteristically. Why was Bulma's father being cordial to him? Was he not going to throw him out?

"Good, good. Glad to hear it," Dr. Briefs responded.

"Daddy, what the hell are you doing?" Bulma all but screamed. "Have you already forgotten-"

"I remember a great number of things, young lady," Dr. Briefs interrupted in a voice louder and firmer than his surprised daughter ever remembered hearing him use. "One of them is that yes, you are hurt and angry and understandably so," he told her, making Vegeta's gaze drop back down, "and another is that we are not alone in this house. I don't think that Geta and his wife and son need to hear you two bickering, and neither does VJ."

Vegeta's head immediately turned to the nursery door. It was quiet inside, but that was no indication that the child inside was happily content. The feelings Vegeta was picking up were, in actuality, quite the opposite. He rushed past Bulma to the door and put his hand on the knob.

"Excuse me?" Bulma growled irritably. "Could you possibly be any less considerate today?"

Vegeta frowned, but it wasn't an angry frown. It was one of concern as he held a finger in front of his lips. "Shhh..."

"Don't you shush me, you overgrown gorilla," Bulma snapped, offended.

Presently the mood in the nursery changed from nervous to frightened and the baby began to cry.

Vegeta sighed. "Bulma-"

"Now look what you've done! Get out of my way!" she demanded.

Vegeta could see that it wasn't simply anger at him that was making her act this way. She was stressed and tired and genuinely concerned for the welfare of her son. "Bulma, please," he murmured in a low voice. "You told me once that I was most likely projecting feelings that our son did not like, and you were right. Now is the time for both of us to calm down, because all I sense from him now is confusion and fear."

"So stop scaring him," Bulma insisted.

Vegeta sighed still again, fighting to keep his composure. This was not Bulma, his Bulma. This was the Bulma who was infatuated with that insolent Hiroshi creature who had offended him earlier. He had to remember that, and he had to be strong.

He had to keep himself from breaking down, because he was painfully aware that he wasn't far from it; may the gods curse his very existence if he lost the fight here and now.

"Look, I am trying to be civil," Vegeta murmured, well aware that Bulma's parents were still there, witnessing the entire ugly debacle they were presenting. "For once in my life I am really, truly _trying,_ Bulma. Please, do not do this." His expression pleaded with her.

She almost blinked in surprise. There was only one other time when Vegeta had pleaded with her, and that had been when he'd been concerned with keeping her safe from Frieza. Vegeta didn't plead. No. It was a lie. He didn't really care. He had promised to take care of her and VJ, to protect them. Instead, he'd walked out on them twice. "I need to get to my baby," she told him emotionlessly, pushing past him and entering the nursery.

Vegeta stepped aside and let her by. There was nothing left to do. She wasn't going to talk to him. He honestly didn't blame her and hadn't expected anything other than hurt and anger from his mate.

A sharp pain lanced through him at the thought._ His mate._ Had she cast him off him completely, or, gods willing, would she eventually tell him that she truly would continue to be his mate? He'd do anything, whatever she demanded, to make even the tiniest glimmer of hope a reality. He knew he'd hurt her deeply, but the woman had no concept of what she was doing. He would never have another; he had pledged his life to her and only her. It was the Saiyan way. According to the human way, if it didn't work out, well, simply be rid of one's mate and select a new one. He had seen it often enough on the television and in the gossip magazines.

But it wasn't that simple. Even if it hadn't been the Saiyan way to mate for life, he didn't _desire_ another woman. He only wanted and needed her. He would die lonely and abstinent without her.

His head swam with the sea of thoughts flooding through it. He would go insane if he didn't get his mind in check. He watched as his former mate went into the nursery and picked up their son from his crib. "There, there now, don't cry," she cooed, holding the child to her bosom and rocking him gently. "Don't cry..." Bulma turned, and her eyes met Vegeta's. "You're still here?"

Another even sharper pain sliced through Vegeta's heart. "He's my son too, Bulma." With that, he turned and headed for the bedroom he'd once shared with her.

"Don't bother," her voice followed him. "All of your things are in a capsule in the junk bowl."

Vegeta stopped but did not reply. How easily the callous words rolled from her tongue! It may have seemed to be likewise for him from her point of view, but doing what he had done the day he'd left had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever forced himself to do. Gods, why had he hurt her this way? He'd get his things and leave. Her father had been civil to him, but Vegeta knew he could not and would not stay where he was clearly unwelcome. He approached the stairs. Perhaps the older man was simply attempting to maintain some semblance of order in his household, but it hardly mattered anymore. "Excuse me, please," he managed, his voice little more than a whisper. It was killing him to leave, having to listen to his son's cries rapidly turning into screams as he descended the stairs.

Mrs. Briefs had kept silent the whole time, but knew from both prior conversations with her husband and from the very expression on his face that she felt the way he did on the matter. Vegeta had always been dear to her heart, despite obviously being troubled. She'd always been able to tell that Vegeta loved her daughter and cared for his son. Something _must_ have gone wrong for him to leave and hurt Bulma the way he had. It just didn't make _sense_ otherwise! She could see that he was hurting too, not just Bulma. "Vegeta?" she ventured, following him down the stairs. "Vegeta, where are you going?"

Vegeta stopped at the bottom of the stairs when he heard her voice. It held that same nervous note it had when she'd approached him while he was in the tree outside and had spoken to him about Bulma's pregnancy. Another wave of guilt washed over him; he didn't want the woman who'd always so willingly and happily fulfilled his every need to feel uncomfortable around him. "I will collect my things and leave," he told her. "I don't want to be the cause of any more incidents tonight."

Mrs. Briefs frowned sadly. "Oh, Vegeta. No, please don't leave again, not like this," she pleaded. "What would be worse, being determined to make things better, or leaving again like she thinks you will?"

Vegeta's mouth opened and he found himself speechless. Bulma's mother had a point. He hadn't thought of it from that perspective.

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk about things just yet," Mrs. Briefs continued hesitantly. "Just give her some time to calm down and think it over a little, that's all."

There it was again- that flood of emotions pushing against the dam he'd constructed so many years ago. The carefully placed blocks were weakening now even faster than before. Bulma had made him so weak, and now he was paying for it.

Or had she? It was his feelings for Bulma, his love for her that had made him strong, pushed him over the edge, given him the power he'd always dreamt of.

He had to stop this. He really was going to drive himself insane.

"Okay?"

Mrs. Briefs' hand on his arm snapped him back to the here and now.

"I... I don't know. She doesn't want me here," Vegeta murmured.

Mrs. Briefs' face softened. "She won't be any happier if you go," she chided gently. "Trust me."

Vegeta shook his head helplessly.

"Besides, it's December," Mrs. Briefs reminded him. "It's cold and dark and it's freezing rain outside right now. I couldn't in good conscience let you leave right now. You wouldn't want to give this old lady a bad conscience, would you?"

Vegeta gave her a look that was partway between mild amusement and irritation. She had him, damn it, and she knew it. "No, I don't," he acquiesced. "It's just that..."

"Shatsu and I have spoken quite a bit about our feelings on all of this," Mrs. Briefs told him pointedly. "While we're not happy about how you treated Bulma, even a silly old lady like me can see that there's something else bothering you, Dear. In fact..." She trailed off as the kitchen door opened and a very irritated Bulma entered.

"Here, take him," she snapped, thrusting VJ towards Vegeta. "I can't take his screaming any longer."

Vegeta unhesitatingly accepted the child from its mother and held him close. "Hey, what's all of this?" he murmured, turning away slightly so that his contact with the boy could be a little more private. He suddenly remembered something Bulma had said to the child before he'd left; still another title that had been bestowed upon him. "Don't cry, Vegeta. Daddy is sorry for this mess and all of the yelling," he continued, bouncing slightly in an attempt to quiet his son. Bulma had been right- VJ was indeed screaming, not just crying, but screaming. "Please stop now, Son. I'll do my best to fix things, I promise."

The baby whimpered once more before falling silent.

"For the love of Kami," Bulma grumbled. "I hate it when you do that." What she was truly disconcerted about, however, was what Vegeta had said to their son. Usually he spoke what could be considered private things to him in the Saiyan tongue. He hadn't this time. Had he meant for her to hear?

Had he meant what he'd said?

Vegeta was stroking the little back gently as the baby dropped closer and closer toward sleep. His son had grown quite a bit while he was gone, he realized with shame. He'd missed feeling the tiny warm body cuddled up against his own, and the feeling it evoked inside him. It wasn't the same as how he felt for the boy's mother, but it was similar in intensity and he cared for the boy enough that he came to the conclusion that what he felt, too, must be love for his son. Yes, Bulma had explained the difference when she had told him how she could love her friend, her family, her then unborn child. Him...

His son was his family, as were Anya and his grandson. Dare he admit to it, he had grown quite fond of Bulma's parents as well, to the point that he also cared about them.

They were all he had left, he realized, as he held his now sleeping son a little closer. He would treasure them as he should have been doing all along. And, he would continue to treasure her as well, even if she didn't want it. She would soon see that... he... Vegeta held in a sigh. It was more easily said than done as the dam holding back every emotion he'd repressed shifted again. He'd try, he had to try. She had to see.

"Is he asleep?"

Vegeta blinked a few times before turning around. If things kept up the way they were he would lose control for certain. "Yes." He couldn't bring himself to look at Bulma as she retrieved their son from his arms and left the kitchen without another word.

"She still loves you, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs said softly once she was certain Bulma had gone. "A mother can tell things like that, just as I can tell that you still love her."

Vegeta's face twisted in pain. "Please don't," he whispered. "I cannot... cannot handle it right now."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Briefs said sincerely. "I only wanted to reassure you, that's all." She gestured toward the table. "Here, sit down and I'll fix you something to eat." She filled a pot with water and put it on the stove to boil before putting on a full-length apron. Tomato sauce certainly could be messy, and she wasn't taking any chances with her new blouse.

Mrs. Briefs was not taking no for an answer, so he sat down at the table, feeling rather awkward as he did so. Bulma didn't want him there, and here was her mother making him food. "I appreciate it, but I don't know if it would be appropriate-"

Mrs. Briefs turned around, wooden spoon in hand. "Now, you listen up, young man," she insisted, waving the spoon in front of his nose for emphasis. "I don't want to hear any more such talk, is that understood? As much as she would like to think it is, this isn't Bulma's house, it's her father's. Don't you think that if Shatsu and I didn't want you here, we would have told you to leave?"

Vegeta didn't know what to say. In fact, he was still confused as to why they hadn't kicked him out. "I suppose so." He summoned up his courage to ask the tiny but powerful million-zeni question. "Why?"

Mrs. Briefs sat down beside him and laid down the spoon. "It's as I said before, Dear. We can both tell that you care a great deal about Bulma and that you didn't mean to hurt her. In fact, I think that you're hurting just as much... Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned his face from her, her words having affected him more than he thought possible as he struggled to maintain control. It seemed that, for the first time since dying at Frieza's hand, he would lose the battle.

Bunny noted his situation and got up from her seat. "Oh, my dear boy, it's not good to keep your feelings bottled up," she told him gently. "You would feel so much better if you could only let yourself let them out." She took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"I can't... please don't," Vegeta choked out as the older woman put her arms around him, enveloping him in a hug. "I can't..."

"Shhh... Just let it out," she soothed, rubbing his back gently. "It'll be all right, Dear." She continued to rub his back as she heard him take in deep gulps of air, struggling to contain what had clearly become the inevitable. "There's no shame in caring about other people. I care about you, Vegeta, and I want you to feel better." That was all it took, and she found the proud Saiyan prince shaking against her shoulder, his hands fisting onto the fabric of her apron as he clung to her like a lifeline. "That's it, let it out," she whispered, feeling her own eyes tearing up. "Let it out."

Eventually his trembling subsided and he straightened up, withdrawing himself from her grasp. "I'm sorry," he murmured, embarrassed by his behavior. "I'm not myself tonight."

"Vegeta, you've done nothing here to be sorry about," Mrs. Briefs assured him. "Please don't think that there's anything wrong with your tears, because there isn't."

It was then that Vegeta saw that she, too, was crying. "Why are you crying?" he asked in surprise.

"I hurt when the people I care about hurt, Vegeta." Mrs. Briefs gave him a watery smile and offered him a box of tissues. "Now, let's get you some dinner, shall we?"

Vegeta still felt embarrassed about allowing himself to actually cry in front of Mrs. Briefs- or anyone else for that matter- but resumed his seat obediently. He knew that she would be the last person to mock him about it, and oddly enough he trusted that she wouldn't go around talking about it, either. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Dear." Mrs. Briefs dumped a package of pasta into the pot and stirred it. "Is regular meat sauce fine with you, or would you like something else?"

"Meat sauce would be fine," Vegeta assured her.

"See? You feel a little better already, don't you, Dear? Less stressed?"

Vegeta managed a smile. She did, after all, deserve it. He felt empty inside, but at least that was all that was there- emptiness in place of the pain he'd just let out. He would have to learn to deal with the pain he knew would replace it, for he had no intention of a repeat performance. "Yes, thank you."

"It's Bunny, Dear." Mrs. Briefs set a glass of milk in front of him. She could tell that he hadn't been comfortable in situations where anyone else would have addressed her or her husband directly. He'd never tried to before, and it was obvious that his pride had worn down somewhat and that he was making an effort. "Please call us Shatsu and Bunny."

He nodded. "All right. Shatsu and Bunny it is, then." They might have insisted upon Dr. and Mrs. Briefs, and all things considered he would have been fine with that. It was actually a _good_ feeling to know that they wanted him to call them by their first names.

* * *

Vegeta felt as awkward as a kid at a slumber party who'd forgotten his sleeping bag as Mrs. Briefs pulled some sheets and blankets from the linen closet in the hallway. "Here we are, Dear," she whispered in an attempt to keep from waking anyone else up. "I'll make up a room for you." She selected a room a couple doors down from the nursery and opened the door. "This one will do nicely, and you'll be close to little VJ, too."

_And to Bulma._ "Yes, I'm sure this room will be just fine," Vegeta agreed. It didn't matter; there was no way he'd be able to sleep that night.

"Oh, but it doesn't have a private bath," Mrs. Briefs mused, disappointment evident in her voice.

"That's not a problem. Don't worry about it," Vegeta assured her as they entered the room. "It just means that I can't walk from the shower to my closet naked anymore."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "Vegeta, you're so naughty!" she exclaimed gleefully. It was nice to see that Vegeta was trying to be funny during what was obviously a difficult time for him. "Although, who am I to tell you what to do, hmm?"

Now it was Vegeta's turn to be surprised; a devilish smile had crept onto her mouth as she quietly giggled at the expression on his face. "Bunny! Shame on you," he mock chastised, feeling his cheeks flush pink. He shook his head.

She giggled one more time before setting the linens onto the nightstand next to the bed. "I'll just make up the bed for you, Dear, and we can put your things away tomorrow."

"I can do it. You've done enough already," Vegeta told her, but she shooed him away with a wave of her hand.

"It's no problem. I don't mind at all," Mrs. Briefs assured him. She quickly made up the bed. "There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom under the sink. Did you need anything else before I head off to bed too?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, I have what I need."

"All right. Good night, Dear." Mrs. Briefs gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the bedroom.

Vegeta sat down heavily onto the bed. He'd never felt so empty in his life, and he'd almost always been alone, even when there were people all around him. He sighed. He could either sit up all night and mope about the situation he'd put himself in, or he could attempt to get some sleep in the bed that Mrs. Briefs had so considerately made for him.

He opened the capsule containing everything from his journey onto the bed and stared at its contents. He knew what was in each and every one of those small metal cylinders. One was the few possessions he'd taken with him, clothing and the like. One contained the remaining food he hadn't consumed while in space. An even dozen of them contained what he was nearly positive was a very large quantity of Wethion stone. Just a walnut-sized piece of it would make him a wealthy man. The last capsule contained his prize possession- the now ruined armor that Bulma had made for him. He put the capsules into the nightstand drawer and opened the one he'd retrieved from the kitchen, his heart wrenching as he looked through the boxes of his things it contained in search of something to wear. It was a chilly night, so he pulled on a pair of pajamas, an item of clothing that he'd never bothered to wear before, and slipped beneath the covers.

As he suspected, sleep refused to come. He rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. It did nothing to rid his mind of the tears she'd shed when he'd left, her angry words when he'd returned, the cold, emotionless eyes she'd looked at him with when she'd uttered those words.

_You're absolutely right. It was a mistake._

_I'm not going to repeat it._

Sleep was obviously not going to come to him that night, so he got out of bed and stepped out into the hallway. It was quiet and dark save the small night light plugged into an electrical socket on the hallway wall. He figured he might as well brush his teeth after all and entered the bathroom.

What to do when one couldn't sleep in a house that now felt strange and unwelcome to him? Vegeta contemplated going downstairs to the den to watch some television when he heard a small whimper from inside the nursery.

* * *

Bulma woke up as if on cue and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Yawning, she stretched and got to her feet. "Time to make the doughnuts," she murmured, rubbing at her eyes as she staggered out of her bedroom and toward the nursery. Her son's nightly feeding schedule was practically like clockwork. She didn't even need to hear him cry in order to wake up and nurse him.

She crept into the nursery, not wanting to awaken her grandson, who Anya had put to bed once all the fireworks had ended, and went to the crib on the opposite wall to get her son.

The crib was empty.

Bulma nearly screamed in her panic. Where was her baby? He wasn't walking yet and he'd never gotten out of his crib on his own. What could have happened to him? Who would have... The answer struck her like a freight train.

Vegeta.

She hadn't missed how possessive he'd been of their son that evening. Had he taken VJ and run, just to get back at her, to show her who was in control? Breathing heavily, she rushed out of the nursery and over to Anya and Geta's room. "Geta! Wake up!"

Geta felt himself being shaken and sat up blearily. "Mother? What's wrong?"

"VJ's gone! I went to feed him and he's not in his crib!" she whispered hysterically. "You don't think..."

Geta sat up with a groan. "Father took him? No, he wouldn't do something like that," he assured his mother, who was on the verge of tears. If Vegeta had attempted to run with VJ, it would have gone against everything they had discussed after he'd gotten back. Geta knew that his father loved his mother. No matter how angry she was at him or how hurt he was, he wouldn't hurt her like that, and Geta would have personally hunted him down and fed him to the dogs had he tried. "In fact..." Geta paused. "They're both a couple doors down."

Bulma blinked at him, hysteria forgotten for the moment. "Really? I hadn't even considered..."

Geta sighed. "Mother, do you really think that even if Gram and Gramps were furious at Father, they still would have kicked him out tonight, in the middle of an ice storm in December? Gram would have said, 'eat this and get some sleep, Dear, because I think it would be best if you leave tomorrow before everyone else gets up,' don't you think?"

A weak little chuckle escaped; he'd even gotten the inflection of her mother's voice right. "You're right," she admitted. "Mom would say something like that." Bulma rested a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry to wake you up like this."

"It's okay, Mother. Try to get some sleep, all right?" He patted her hand before rolling over onto his side, pulling Anya close against him.

"This is really bad, isn't it?" Anya's tired voice mumbled after the door shut.

"Yeah." Geta let out a long sigh. Hopefully the night was young, so to speak, and his mother would cool off a little, even if they never got back together again. He frowned. This hadn't been what he'd had in mind when he came here, not at all. Would he ever...

"Honey? I know you loved Trunks and you're afraid for him, but it won't do any good to worry excessively about him and you shouldn't beat yourself up over this. We need to concentrate on first things first, which means helping Pops set things right with Bulma." Anya wriggled back more snugly against her husband. "Not to mention getting rid of that... that absolute _jerk_ she's dating."

Geta snorted. " 'Absolute jerk,' Anya? You're too kind."

"Okay, nasty little prick. How's that?" She yawned. "Let's try to get some more sleep, okay?"

Geta kissed the back of her neck. To anyone in the know listening to their conversation, Anya might have sounded uncaring or maybe even heartless about what she'd said regarding his future brother, but he knew she was right. His father was beating himself up enough about it. He could best concentrate his efforts on helping, not adding to the hurt of the whole situation. "Good night, An."

"Good night, Geta."

Still... Geta had been very fond of his brother, and he'd been devastated when he'd died. Part of what had convinced him to take the trip back in time was the memory of the wise-cracking, lavender-haired boy and all the good times they'd had together, despite being on constant watch for their lives. He drew in a deep breath. His father had to fix this, he just _had_ to.

* * *

Bulma shut Anya and Geta's bedroom door and scurried down the hall. She poked her head in the first guest bedroom. Empty. Oh! She'd give that man a piece of her mind! If he thought she had been cold to him earlier that night, hoo boy, was he in for a surprise. Bulma opened the next guest room door. She'd chew him up and spit him out...

She paused.

Before her was one of the most precious sights she'd ever seen.

Bulma could feel her anger slowly fading as she took in Vegeta lying asleep on the bed, his arms around their son, who slept peacefully on Vegeta's chest, one tiny thumb halfway in his mouth. It reminded her of when she'd come home from buying some clothes for Geta to find them similarly asleep on the couch. Her heart had melted then and it did so again now. Despite her anger at Vegeta, she just couldn't bring herself to ruin the peaceful scene.

For the first time since she'd met him, Vegeta's face wore not a trace of a scowl while he slept. She couldn't quite explain what she thought that might mean. Why would he look so tranquil now, after such a tumultuous night? She shut the door and made her way back to her room. It didn't matter. She'd deal with Vegeta in the morning.

It never occurred to her that the cold-hearted Prince of Saiyans had learned how to love.

* * *

Mrs. Briefs hummed cheerfully to herself as she fixed the morning's breakfast. She was determined to think positive. Things would work out eventually. Bulma would listen to what Vegeta had to say. She would see that he really was sorry for what he done to hurt her, and that he loved her. She would see that the distasteful young man she was dating wasn't nice at all, and that Vegeta was a sweet boy. It might take a few days, but she was sure that her daughter would come to her senses and everything would be just fine!

"Good morning, Bunny."

Bunny turned from the stove to greet the first member of the family to come down to the kitchen. "Good morning, Vegeta, Dear!" she sang with a smile. "I'm making pancakes for breakfast today."

Vegeta nodded. "They smell wonderful." He still felt a little at edge, as if he didn't belong there. He knew it would be awkward at best when Bulma came in. Perhaps he could be gone by then, or maybe he should simply skip breakfast entirely. He just wasn't in the best frame of mind to deal with any more of her unbridled hatred this morning.

"They're blueberry, your favorite." Mrs. Briefs poured a cup of coffee and set it down beside him.

"Thank you," he told her politely. He wasn't used to saying things like 'please' and 'thank you,' but found that it wasn't that difficult with someone ready and willing to please him. He'd used to think the woman was annoying. Now, he found himself more comfortable with her than just about anyone in the house.

"You're so welcome, Dear." Mrs. Briefs turned back to the stove. "Oh, my... well, that one's burned..."

Vegeta found himself mildly amused by the irony of her comment; since when was she a bad cook? He dumped large amounts of cream and sugar into his coffee as was his custom and sat in companionable silence with the blonde woman as she cooked, he sipping his coffee, she sipping her tea. Sensing a familiar presence at the kitchen door, he turned as Anya entered the kitchen.

She stood in silence for a moment. "Pops."

He rose from his seat. "Anya."

She walked over to him and again stood in silence. Disappointment colored her face and tears pooled in her eyes. No words of chastisement were needed. Her face was enough.

Vegeta felt wretched. He hated seeing her cry, and he hated being the reason for her tears. "Anya, I-"

"Oh, Pops." Anya flung her arms around him in a hug. /I just don't understand you, you know?/

Vegeta returned the hug a little awkwardly. /If it makes you feel any better, I don't understand myself either,/ he commented.

Anya stepped back and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. /Why? That's all I want to know, Pops. Why did you do it?/

He dropped his eyes. /I... I didn't know how to go without hurting her. So I.../ Vegeta paused, frowning as he contemplated the absurdity of his statement. /I guess I'm an idiot./

/I'd agree with you, but we both know that's not true,/ Anya contradicted him. /I know it's something deeper that maybe even you aren't sure how to express. I only hope that she understands that, too./

Vegeta swallowed. He prayed that Bulma would speak with him, that she would understand someday. "Something like that."

"Juice, Anya?" Mrs. Briefs set a glass down on the table and poured some juice into it as casually as if nothing had just happened.

Anya smiled gratefully at the blonde woman. Somehow she knew just what to do sometimes. "Thanks, Bunny."

"Of course, Dear. Did you see anyone else up yet?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"I saw Shatsu go outside and Geta's in the shower. The kids are still asleep and Bulma has company," Anya finished blandly.

"Oh," Mrs. Briefs responded just as blandly. "How nice, I suppose."

Vegeta felt out with his ki. Sure enough, the man who had acted so offensively the night before was there in the front of the house, as was Bulma. He actually found the realization that neither woman liked the man comforting. "Shatsu is approaching," he reported, changing the subject.

"Oh, good." Mrs. Briefs put some more pancakes in the oven to keep warm. "Just in time for breakfast."

"Good morning, everyone," Dr. Briefs greeted as he entered the house through the kitchen door. He slipped off his shoes and hung his coat on a hook by the door. "Goodness, but it's cold outside. The snow may be gone, but everything's still icy."

"Be careful out there, Darling," Mrs. Briefs counseled. "You don't want to slip, especially with your bad knee, you know."

"Yes, Bunny. I'm careful." The doctor kissed his wife on the cheek and commandeered himself a slice of bacon. "So. Are you settled in appropriately, Vegeta?"

Vegeta found himself at a loss for words. It did appear that the older man desired him to stay in his home. "I suppose so," he murmured.

"I put Vegeta in the blue room, Dear," Mrs. Briefs piped up. "I still need to organize his things. I'll have plenty of time today to do that. I really should order new furniture, though, and a new mattress too. That one is so old," she added thoughtfully. "Maybe some lamps and oh! A nice flat screen television set!"

"That's a wonderful idea, Bunny. I'm sure Vegeta can help you pick out something suitable," Dr. Briefs responded. The way he said it didn't leave room for objection on Vegeta's part.

"I know, I'll take him to the Log Cabin," Mrs. Briefs decided. "They have such lovely rustic type furniture there. I'm sure we'll find something less decorative than what's in there now." She smiled at her own cleverness.

As she chattered, Vegeta felt dread closing in on him as he detected Bulma's and Hiroshi's ki heading for the kitchen. He did not need this. He did not want to see that insolent man again. He had no doubt that Hiroshi would be no more pleasant than he was the evening prior. He didn't need another altercation with Bulma. He held his tongue as the kitchen door opened and the two entered.

"Good morning Mom, Daddy, Anya," Bulma called out cheerfully.

Vegeta remained silent when the others returned her greeting. He could practically feel Hiroshi's ugly face smirking at him but refused to give the man the dignity of acknowledging his presence. It was bad enough he had to smell the cretin.

Old Spice, damn. One of the few Earth scents for males that he actually liked and didn't give him an instant headache, and this waste of space has to use it.

"Breakfast is almost ready, Dear," Mrs. Briefs reported. "Why don't you sit down while I finish it up?"

"Thanks, Mom. Listen, I have a meeting this morning and I haven't been able to get in touch with Etsuko." Bulma took a seat at the kitchen table next to Hiroshi, who had sat down and was reading his newspaper. "Do you think you could take him for me?"

"Of course I can take him today," Mrs. Briefs assured her. "I'll take him with me when Vegeta and I go shopping. We're going to buy some furniture. Oh! Did you want me to look for that bookshelf you wanted for your lab, Dear?"

"No, I'd rather pick it out myself," Bulma responded, not acknowledging Vegeta's presence in the slightest. Her son hadn't been returned to his crib until early that morning, presumably when Vegeta awoke. She spied some empty formula bottles in the sink. At least the man had the sense to feed their son.

"All right." Mrs. Briefs poured the last few pancakes. "What are your plans today, Shatsu? I'd like to know when to start dinner."

"I was going to spend a little time in the lab today," Dr. Briefs told her. "I'd also like to run a few diagnostics on the GR, Vegeta. Perhaps you could lend me a hand," he requested. "I saw a few things in there that I'm a little concerned about."

It suddenly struck Vegeta what Dr. Briefs was referring to- all of the blood inside of the capsule. "Oh... right. I meant to clean that up, but I didn't have sufficient supplies left," he murmured uncomfortably.

"What is it, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked brightly. "Is it something I could help you with?"

"It appears to be some blood, Bunny," Dr. Briefs spoke up before Vegeta could respond. As he'd anticipated, his daughter shifted ever so slightly in her seat, although she said nothing.

"Oh my, blood?" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed worriedly. "Are you all right, Vegeta?"

Vegeta hadn't wanted the information the doctor had supplied to be mentioned in front of the others, but what was done was done. "It's all right," he assured her hesitantly. "I just had a little accident while I was in space, that's all."

"But..."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Dr. Briefs told his wife. _A little accident? It looks like a bloodbath in those sleeping quarters._

"All right, Dear," Mrs. Briefs conceded, but they could tell she was still going to worry about it. "Just let me know if I can help."

Dr. Briefs nodded. "Vegeta, let's wander over to the GR for a moment, shall we?"

"Sure," Vegeta agreed slowly. He waited as Dr. Briefs shrugged on his coat.

"Why don't we grab your coat, Vegeta? It's in the hall closet."

"No, I'll be fine. I'll keep warm with my ki," Vegeta told him.

"All right," the doctor said a little skeptically. It was the dead of winter, but if the boy said he didn't need a coat, then who was he to argue? He put a couple pancakes on a plate and took it with him as they left the house.

No sooner had the door shut did the insults start. "You haven't kicked him out on his ass yet?" Hiroshi stated the obvious as he took another sip of his coffee. "I should think that you'd be eager to get rid of that loser after what he did to your daughter."

Mrs. Briefs eyed her daughter's distasteful boyfriend with an icy gaze. She hadn't liked him from the start. He was rude, conceited and couldn't have cared less about Bulma's family and friends; whatever did she _see_ in him? Some might argue that the same could be said of Vegeta, but as much as Vegeta pretended he was indifferent, it was obvious that he did care. Hiroshi hadn't exhibited any such inclination. "Oh, thank you _so_ much for your concern, Hiroshi. Shatsu is taking care of the situation. You needn't worry about it."

"Good, good. That's a relief," Hiroshi muttered, turning the page of his newspaper.

There was no way Bulma could have missed the sarcasm fairly dripping from her mother's tongue, even if Hiroshi hadn't seemed to notice. Then again, he rarely paid any attention to anything her mother said anyway, she suddenly realized. "Mom-"

"Your breakfast is ready, Dear," Mrs. Briefs announced, setting a plate down in front of Bulma before she could say anything. "Anya, will you and Geta be having breakfast?"

"No, Geta and I are taking our son to Lenny's for breakfast today. But thank you for offering," Anya responded.

"Oh. Bulma, if you're all set I'll save the rest for your father and Vegeta when they come back in. I'm sure they'll be hungry."

"Uhm, thanks, Mom," Bulma told her mother weakly. She also couldn't help but notice that her mother hadn't made any effort to offer breakfast to Hiroshi. That in itself was quite unusual. No one stopped by during mealtime without being subjected to very insistent offers of "sit down, Dear, and let me get you some lunch" or whatever it happened to be that they were eating from her mother.

Her father had taken breakfast with him as he often did, which meant that her mother had every intention of snubbing her boyfriend in favor of the man who'd deliberately crushed her heart. Bulma felt her temperature rise. Why was everyone so against Hiroshi? He was smart, handsome, highly intelligent, and a successful senior officer of a major corporation. _They're just jealous, _she decided, ignoring the fact that no one other than her ex-boyfriend had any reason to be jealous of her relationship with Hiroshi. "Hiroshi, would you like some breakfast before Mom puts it away?" she asked loudly enough that her mother would be sure to hear.

"No, I hate pancakes," Hiroshi announced snidely.

"She could make some eggs," Bulma offered.

"Bulma Dear, you'd better hurry if you don't want to be late to your meeting," Mrs. Briefs spoke up. Her gaze met Bulma's.

Her mother's expression bode no opposition. She had no intention whatsoever of cooking breakfast for Hiroshi. "You know, you're right, Mom," Bulma said, rising from her seat. "We'd best be going." She rose from her seat, dumped her breakfast into the trash, and put her plate in the sink. If she didn't eat it, her Kami-damned ex would, no doubt about that, and so into the trash it went. "Let's go, Hiroshi."

Anya watched the couple leave, holding her tongue until she was certain that they were gone. Other than answering Mrs. Briefs' question she had kept silent and out of the way during the entire interchange with Bulma and Hiroshi in the kitchen but could be silent no longer. "Ugh! What a _despicable_ man," she complained, a shudder rushing over her body. "Whatever does Bulma see in him?"

"I have no idea, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told her with a small sigh. "Even if Vegeta didn't still love her, I'd still not like that man."

"You see it too." Anya's comment was clearly a statement and not a question.

"Oh my, yes," Mrs. Briefs agreed. "I can tell that he loves Bulma very much, and that he feels terrible about what happened between them. I only hope that she realizes that before they both get hurt even more than they already are."

Anya sighed. "You and me both, Bunny."

* * *

"Just a little accident, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs asked as they entered the GR.

Vegeta knew very well what the doctor was referring to- the blood soaked bed in the sleeping area. After destroying the asteroid, he'd fallen out of Super Saiyan, completely spent, and had managed to stagger over to the bed before collapsing onto it with a groan of pain. He'd laid there for a few minutes until his crushed rib cage made it too difficult to breathe. He had forced himself to remove his armor and go in search of the medical kit, silently thanking every god he knew of that it contained a single senzu bean. He'd had no idea what to do with all of the blood on the bed, from both his numerous cuts and from coughing up all of the blood that had been pooling in his lungs as a result of his internal injuries. "I'm still alive," he commented with a slight shrug, avoiding the doctor's question.

Dr. Briefs raised an eyebrow at him.

"All right, okay," Vegeta relented. "I injured myself rather severely while training and bled a lot because of it," he explained, choosing not to reveal the entire story quite yet. It wasn't that he didn't trust the doctor, but he just wasn't ready to tell anyone else. Dr. Briefs still had a measure of respect for him for some unknown reason, and he didn't want to spoil that by the subject inevitably leading to money. Money was hardly the reason he had returned to Earth, far from it. "I had a senzu bean, so it's fine."

Dr. Briefs wasn't quite convinced but decided to let it drop. "All right then, Vegeta. If you say you're all right, I'll take your word for it."

Vegeta nodded, grateful that Dr. Briefs wasn't going to press the issue further. "If you can provide me with the proper supplies, I will clean up the mess."

To his surprise, the doctor shook his head. "No, I'll just replace it with a new bed," he decided. "This one is pretty worn out anyway."

Vegeta didn't know what to say. Why this man was being so agreeable to him he still wasn't completely clear on. "Thank you, Dr. Briefs," he murmured, humbled once again by the older man's kindness.

Dr. Briefs eyed the prince standing before him. The young man was uncomfortable, that much was evident. How to lighten the mood without driving him away? "Vegeta, I'd like for you to call me Shatsu," he requested. "Not only are you my grandson's father, but we've been acquainted far too long for such formalities. Shatsu and Bunny are fine with the missus and me."

So. Mrs. Briefs had been correct on her husband's feeling on the matter. Vegeta nodded in acceptance. "All right. Shatsu it is, then."

"Good." The doctor retrieved a capsule from his pocket and opened it to reveal a tool kit. "I'll order a new one and install it when it arrives. Give me a hand with this old bed?"

"Of course." Vegeta was grateful that the older man was being respectful of his privacy, evidently realizing that he wasn't comfortable with Bulma's involvement for one reason or another. He knelt down on the floor, trying to ignore the smell of the blood soaked mattress, and reached up for the screwdriver.

* * *

"What do you think about this set, Dear?"

"Hmm." Vegeta examined the bedroom set that Mrs. Briefs had indicated. It was rather ruggedly built, made of solid wood, sturdy and quite simple in its design. Nothing much could be said about it.

It was perfect.

"Do you like it? If not, there's plenty more to choose from," Mrs. Briefs offered.

Vegeta ran his hand along the top of the dresser. "I even like the color," he told her with a nod of his head.

Mrs. Briefs smiled and shifted VJ in her arms. "Wonderful! Did you want to keep it in mind and keep looking?"

"No, this will do quite nicely," Vegeta assured her.

"Can it be delivered today?" Mrs. Briefs asked the salesman standing nearby.

"Today?" the salesman responded a little hesitantly. "I'll have to check if we have it in stock first."

"In stock?" Vegeta looked at the salesman in puzzlement. "You have it right here."

The man was about to inform Vegeta that this was a floor model and not for sale but thought better of it. This guy- who somehow looked vaguely familiar- was a friend of the Briefs. _No one_ said no to the Briefs. "Of course, Sir. You're correct. If we don't have a set ready to go in our warehouse, I'd be glad to arrange to deliver this one to you." He smiled brightly and folded his hands together. "Now, you said something about a new mattress and some accessories, didn't you?"

"Yes, we need a nice mattress," Mrs. Briefs agreed. "But why don't you check your stock first? If you have a bigger bed, we'll take that one instead." She couldn't have Vegeta sleeping on a twin mattress, could she? He'd be too crowded, the poor dear.

The salesman immediately approached a terminal and typed rapidly at the keyboard. "Let's see... I do have another set in a king," he announced. "Same style and color."

"Oh good, we'll take it," Mrs. Briefs decided. "Let's look at mattresses now."

"Very good, Ma'am. How firm do you prefer your mattress, Sir?" the salesman asked as he led them to the appropriate area of the store.

"Firm," Vegeta insisted. "Nothing squishy." Bulma's mattress had been too squishy, but he'd been willing to tolerate it. He shoved the thought of why he'd been willing to tolerate a soft mattress out of his head. Being in Bulma's bed was the last thing he needed to be thinking about.

"All right. This is our top of the line model," the salesman responded, waving his hand toward a mattress on a steel frame.

Vegeta hesitated. What did this man expect out of him? He reached down and pressed down the mattress with one hand. It felt pretty firm, he supposed, but it wasn't quite right.

"Try it out, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told him.

"Try it out?" Vegeta repeated, uncertain of what she meant. Did she mean he was to go to sleep on this bed?

"Lie down and see if you like how it feels," she coached.

Feeling a little foolish as he did so, Vegeta lay down on the sheetless bed and stared up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his waist. He wriggled a little. "It's squishy."

The salesman's eyebrow rose. This bed was as firm as they got. "It's too soft?"

"I think it's the pillowtop he doesn't like," Mrs. Briefs determined. "Can you show us one without a pillowtop?"

"Of course, Ma'am." The salesman showed them over to another bed. "This side is soft, this one is firm. Try the firm side, Sir."

Mrs. Briefs giggled at the expression on Vegeta's face. "Don't worry, Vegeta. It doesn't actually come like that," she assured him. "It's just so you can try out both firmnesses." She paused. "Is that a word?"

Vegeta quickly got onto the bed before she could continue. "Much better," he announced. "This one is far less squishy."

Mrs. Briefs giggled again. It was so cute how he kept saying 'squishy.' The formality of his speech had gradually relaxed since he'd first come home with Bulma, and some of the things he now said were just adorable. He probably didn't even realize it.

* * *

"It looks nice, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs decided as she scanned the room. Her husband was nice enough to have had one of the employees steam clean the carpet while they were gone, and all of the new furniture was set up, the bed made, and things put away. They'd even had a nice new television set mounted on one wall.

Vegeta felt a tug at his heart. Sure, it was nice, but it wasn't what he needed. What he needed was down the hall. "Yes, it does. Thank you, Bunny." He looked over at his son, who was asleep on the bed, his little mouth moving as if he were dreaming of suckling at his mother's breast. Lucky little brat.

"You're welcome, Dear." Mrs. Briefs picked up VJ and headed for the door. "I'll put him in his crib."

Vegeta watched her go and sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh. He felt so empty inside. Now that he had unwittingly learned _how_ to feel, he didn't know what to feel.

It didn't feel good.

He laid back against the pillows. Oddly enough, for not liking a soft bed, he'd learned to like all the pillows Bulma always had on the bed. He shook his head. _There I go again. Thinking about Bulma's bed._ Grabbing the television remote, he turned the device on and checked the channels he actually liked.

Nothing.

Vegeta turned the television back off and tossed the remote on the bed. Back for a day, and already he didn't know what to do with himself. He certainly wasn't going to train. That was what got him in this Kami damned mess to begin with; he didn't need an altercation with Bulma over that. His infant son was sleeping. His adult son and daughter-in-law were out with his grandson. Dr. Briefs was in his lab, and Mrs. Briefs was probably cooking something or doing something crafty. She always did like to make things.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Briefs poked her head in. "Dear, you have a phone call," she informed him, holding out the phone.

Vegeta blinked in surprise. "Me?" Who would be calling him? He accepted the phone from the blonde haired woman, who left to go back to doing whatever it was she did during the day. "Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hey, Vegeta! You're back."

Oh. "Kakarrot."

"Yeah." There was a long pause. "Vegeta, I..." Goku sighed. He wanted to ask Vegeta why he'd hurt his friend, but didn't know if it was the best of ideas. Maybe it would be best to talk with him face to face, so he could determine whether or not Vegeta was as sad as Mrs. Briefs had said he was. "I felt your ki come back yesterday."

"Yes."

Evidently Vegeta was going to play the Not Forthcoming Today game. "I was wondering if you'd like to spar sometime."

Although he'd sparred with Geta, it was close enough to training and he didn't know if he wanted to face Bulma's friends yet. He was having enough problems with the woman herself. "I don't know, Kakarrot."

"Aww, why not? What else do you have planned soon?" Goku asked logically.

There was another long pause. "Nothing, I suppose."

"So do you wanna spar or not? I know it's cold out, but at least there's no snow on the ground. The rain took care of that. Hey, I watched the weather today, and it's supposed to actually be nice and sunny especially next week, and it's supposed to warm up too. We haven't sparred in a while. Chi-Chi needs me to help her for the next couple of days so I think sometime next week would be a great time to-"

"If I promise to think about it will you shut up?" Vegeta interrupted irritably. Gods, the man could rival Mrs. Briefs herself with his chattering.

"Yup." Vegeta could almost hear the other Saiyan's goofy smile. "So I'll see you soon, okay? I'll come over one day after breakfast. Oops, Chi-Chi needs me. Gotta go, bye!" The line went dead.

Vegeta flopped back down onto the bed. Great. Just what he needed, Kakarrot questioning him. Then the big retard would go yammering to all of his equally retarded friends about everything that was said. He stared at the ceiling fan. It was as still and listless as he was. He needed something to do. He couldn't just lie there and do nothing. He couldn't just lie there feeling sorry for himself. What female wanted a moping male as her mate?

Growling irritably, he got up and headed for the labs, knowing Dr. Briefs would be there. Bulma's ki was not present in the labs, which was all the better.

"Ah, Vegeta. Fancy seeing you here. I was actually just about to come see you," Dr. Briefs noted.

"Really?" Vegeta asked in surprise.

"Yes. Do you like your new furnishings?"

That wasn't what he'd expected. "They are adequate, yes."

"Good, good. Listen, Vegeta, I'm in the middle of a project here and would like your assistance." Dr. Briefs got up from his computer and came over, holding a small metal object. He switched it on. "Can you sense that?"

Vegeta's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That feels like Geta's ki," he said in astonishment.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what it is," he confirmed. "I have a sample of his ki energy in this little battery here. Bulma and I intend to use these batteries as beacons, you might say, to make that instant transmission trick you Saiyans do easier. If we place them in various locations around Capsule Corp, anyone who knows how can pick up on the ki signal and transport right to it."

Vegeta found himself duly impressed. "That's not a bad idea at all," he agreed. "But how do you intend to differentiate this ki from Geta's actual ki? And how do you plan to place the same ki in various locations without confusion?"

"Good questions, young man. First off, this beacon can emulate a ki signal in different strengths, as well as different frequencies. So, if I set this one here," Dr. Briefs responded, setting the small battery down, "and this one over here," he continued, placing a second battery across the lab, "you can differentiate between the two, can't you? They are, in fact, both Geta's ki energy, just being emulated differently. That's all." He looked at Vegeta expectantly.

"That's..." Vegeta thought about it. The old man was right. He could easily tell the difference. "That just might work." A slow smile spread over his face.

"Geta thought so too, and so did Goku," Dr. Briefs told him. "Even Yamcha could detect the difference. Besides, think of it this way. We'll have your ki to use, too, and Anya's as well. She can channel ki she takes, remember? Goku told me that when Anya uses Geta's ki, her ki is still definitely different from his. Anya using both Geta's ki and yours adds another two distinctly different signals."

Vegeta's smile widened. "That's quite brilliant, I must confess." He found himself looking forward to assisting with this project.

"Bulma's idea. That's my girl," Dr. Briefs said proudly. "This has been a very rewarding invention for her. She's quite proud of it."

"Oh." Vegeta's face fell a little. "She should be. It's a good idea."

"Vegeta, don't feel that way," the doctor chastised gently, noting his trepidation. "She'll want your involvement." He watched as the younger man was unable to keep his face from falling further; obviously he didn't take his statement seriously. "Just let her cool down a little. When I show her what you've been able to contribute, she'll be pleased."

"Yeah." Vegeta stared down at the floor, suddenly not wanting to meet Bulma's father eye to eye.

"Meanwhile," the doctor hinted gently, "I have a larger scale version of this I'd like you to help me with."

Vegeta looked up at him. "Larger scale?"

"Yes. Come on over here and see." Dr. Briefs wandered over to another room off of the main lab area. "We had more room in my lab than Bulma's, so it's installed here. You'll find this quite interesting, I'm sure."

Vegeta followed the doctor into the room, the walls of which appeared to be heavily constructed and had a glass room installed in the far corner. "This is a battery?"

"Well... not exactly. But it's helped us learn how to measure ki more appropriately so we can build the beacons, among other things," Dr. Briefs responded. "Remember how Bulma suggested running some tests to measure how Anya uses ki energy so we could build a ki battery? Well, this is the measuring device. I've had both Geta and Anya use it so far, and I'm anxious to see the results when you do as well."

Vegeta shifted a little uneasily. He didn't want the truth about his trip to space public knowledge yet. "What would I have to do?"

Dr. Briefs noted Vegeta's further discomfort but said nothing. "This room is ki shielded. The booth is shielded even further, using the same technology as your GR does," he explained. "What I would need you to do is to slowly power up, progressively pushing higher and higher until you reach your limit. I can gather some very valuable data while monitoring your progress. It'll also help me build a better GR." He wriggled his eyebrows at the tempting idea. "I'm especially excited to get your test results, seeing as you're a full-blooded Saiyan in comparison to your son."

Vegeta hesitated. This was Bulma's brainchild, but he couldn't let her know he was a Super Saiyan yet. He didn't want her thinking that was the reason he came back, or that the reason he wanted her back was that he'd reached his goal. "I... I don't mind helping you, but I insist that the results be private between the two of us."

Dr. Briefs frowned in confusion. "I must admit, I don't understand, Vegeta. Why wouldn't you want anyone but me to see your results?"

"How long will this test take?"

Dr. Briefs shrugged. "You can take as long as you like. Slow and steady is better. The final results are completely compiled by the computer in only a couple minutes."

"Then secure the lab, and let's run the test." Vegeta eyed the doctor, but his gaze lacked the intensity it normally did.

"All right then." As before, Dr. Briefs dismissed Vegeta's odd behavior. He'd talk about it when he was ready. He locked the main door, then keyed in a code to lock and shield the room they were in. "Go on inside the booth when you're ready."

Vegeta went inside, drawing in a deep breath as the door slid shut and secured itself. This was it. He didn't want to let the doctor down. He was a good man he'd come to respect who had done nothing but treat him with respect since he arrived back. That meant being truthful with him, which included this test.

"Go ahead when you're ready, Vegeta. Slow and steady," came Dr. Briefs' voice into the little room.

Vegeta nodded and began powering up. Slow and steady. He could do this. He had dropped his ki as low as possible before beginning and had now reached the point he had been at before ascending. It felt odd that what was once normal now felt weak.

Dr. Briefs watched the computer screen in front of him with surprise. No doubt about it, the prince was putting out far more energy than what had normally been conducted by the GR. Had he actually made that much progress while in space? Why hadn't Vegeta wanted to share this with Bulma? These results would be phenomenally helpful.

He paused when he saw the reason why.

As raw power surged through Vegeta the pain of his guilt did as well, and he let out a loud shout as he continued to power up. It wasn't a shout of effort or of physical pain. It was a cry of anguish.

Dr. Briefs shielded his eyes as a flash of gold filled the room for a moment until Vegeta let it ebb down again. He stared in shock at the blonde haired warrior in the booth. Vegeta had become a Super Saiyan while in space! This was fantastic! "Vegeta?" his voice entered the small room through a speaker. "Are you all right?"

Vegeta had his head down and his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and looked up at the doctor through the heavily shielded glass. Upon seeing his reflection, he turned away hastily and threw up the disguise of dark hair and eyes once more. He may be a Super Saiyan and he may remain in that state for the reasons his son did, but that didn't mean he had to look upon his shame. Yes, ironically enough, what was once Vegeta's largest source of pride was now his greatest reason for shame.

Dr. Briefs opened the booth and stood outside of it. "Vegeta?"

"I would gladly give it all up forever if I even thought it might make a difference, Shatsu. It is nowhere near worth the price I paid," came the small response.

Dr. Briefs felt his heart wrench at the miserable tone of Vegeta's voice and the pain in his eyes when they rose again to look at him. He understood now why Vegeta didn't want Bulma to know of his ascension. "This will stay between you and me, all right?" he said quietly.

"Thank you," Vegeta murmured in response.

"When Bulma asks for you to take this test, and I know she will, you attain whatever level you feel comfortable with, and I won't say a thing. You have my word," Dr. Briefs assured him.

Before Vegeta could respond, a buzzing sound came from the lab's intercom. "Daddy? Are you in there?"

Bulma. Vegeta hadn't been able to sense her ki because of the shielding, and now he was trapped.

"Don't worry, Vegeta." Dr. Briefs unlocked the main door. "Sorry, Pumpkin. I was showing Vegeta the ki measuring device we put together and didn't want just anyone walking in."

"Mom says dinner is ready," Bulma reported, once again completely disregarding anything to do with Vegeta's presence.

"Tell her I'm shutting down here for the day and we'll be there in a few minutes," her father directed. "Oh, and Bulma? Vegeta has already indicated that he's willing to assist with your testing for this project whenever you need it."

Bulma stared at her father for a moment. "That's nice," she said emotionlessly before leaving the lab.

Dr. Briefs felt pity for the man standing next to him wash over him. It was evident that Vegeta was hurting because of her cold behavior and even more evident that he was unable to mask his emotions as well as he once could. He couldn't blame him; if he made a mistake and his wife flatly refused to forgive him, even moving on to another man, it would crush him as well. "Vegeta, I..." He sighed. "Let's go have some dinner, hmm?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, I think I will retire for the evening. Good night." He left the lab without so much as waiting for a response.

"But..." Dr. Briefs sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

"Shatsu? What happened to Vegeta? Isn't he having any dinner?" Mrs. Briefs asked as her husband took a seat at the table.

"No, Bunny. He declined to join us," Dr. Briefs responded.

Mrs. Briefs frowned. It wasn't difficult to understand why. "Oh. The poor dear."

"Pass the salt, Mom?" Bulma asked casually.

"I'll make up a tray for him," Mrs. Briefs decided. She took the plate from the empty seat at the table and began to dish it up.

"Mom? Salt, please?" Bulma repeated.

"Oh, and gravy. Vegeta likes lots of gravy," the blonde woman murmured, completely ignoring her daughter.

"Mother!"

Anya and Geta exchanged a glance. This definitely had the potential to become ugly.

Mrs. Briefs hummed to herself as she poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. "I'll be right back," she announced, picking up the tray.

"Damn it, Mom, don't ignore me! What the hell is the matter with you?" Bulma shouted.

Mrs. Briefs set the tray back down with more force than was necessary. "What's the matter with me? You've been a snide little bitch lately, that's what, young lady," she retorted. "So get off your high horse this instant and start treating everyone else with the same dignity and respect that you constantly demand of them!"

Bulma's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. Her mother had _never_ spoken that way to her before. She hardly ever raised her voice! Her eyes narrowed and her face took on an angry expression. "How can you even contemplate defending that son-of-a-bitch Vegeta, Mom?" she practically screamed. "Don't you care what he did to me? Doesn't it matter even one iota to you how badly he hurt me? He couldn't care less how I feel, so why the hell should I be polite to him?"

Mrs. Briefs put her hands on her hips and glared at her daughter. "Have you even spoken with him civilly, Bulma? Because I have. But oh, _no_, you couldn't _possibly_ lower yourself to do that, could you?"

Bulma snorted in derision. "Oh sure. What did he do, come crying on your shoulder?" she asked sarcastically.

Mrs. Briefs picked the tray back up. One brow rose slightly, and a small haughty smirk that clearly meant 'wouldn't _you_ like to know?' formed on her lips as she gave her daughter a sideways glance before leaving the table without another word.

Bulma realized she was staring at her mother in astonishment and corrected herself. She didn't know if her mother had been serious or if her meaning was figurative. Vegeta, literally crying on her shoulder? Doubtful. But then again, her mother wasn't one to play around with words. She was always right to the point and said exactly what she meant. "Yeah, _right_. _What_ever. You honestly expect me to believe that Vegeta of all people would-"

"You go right on believing whatever you want to, Dear," Mrs. Briefs interrupted. "You always do." The kitchen door swung shut behind her.

"I don't believe this!" Bulma exclaimed. "How can she say such a thing to me?"

"Perhaps you should take your mother's advice for a change," Dr. Briefs advised. "She's never lead you astray before, has she?"

"Great, you too! What, did you two get together and talk about how to drive me completely crazy?" Bulma accused him. She got up from the table and stomped out of the room.

After a moment's pause, Anya removed her hands from her son's ears. "I'm almost afraid to ask for the pepper."

* * *

Vegeta waited for the knock he knew would be forthcoming. "Come in."

The door opened and Mrs. Briefs entered, carrying a heavily laden tray. "I brought you some dinner, Dear."

He managed a smile for the blonde haired woman. "Thank you, Bunny," he murmured, accepting the tray from her. He placed it on the night stand beside the bed. "Now do you see why I decided not to come?"

Mrs. Briefs frowned. "Heard her all the way up here, huh?"

He let out a sound halfway between a snort and a chuckle and shook his head. "How could anyone miss it?"

"I'm sorry, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told him softly, sitting down on the bed beside him.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry," Vegeta told her. "You haven't done anything to be sorry for. I'm the one who screwed everything up."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please be patient with her, Vegeta. Eventually she'll calm down and talk to you about things. Just give her some time. She's very hurt."

He nodded soberly but didn't look at her. "I know. I..."

"You what, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs prompted.

"I... I've done a lot to be sorry about, but I've never regretted anything as much as I regret that day," he admitted, his head down and his hands in his lap. "I didn't mean what I said to her, not the way it came out."

"What do you mean?"

Vegeta sighed. How was this woman always able to get him to open up to her so freely? "I told her she was a distraction, and she is. But not in a bad way. That's why I..." He stopped and drew in a deep breath.

Understanding flooded her face. "That's why you left," she finished.

He nodded. "I told her she was a distraction I didn't need or want," he confessed. "I wasn't being truthful with her when I said that. Nothing could be further from the truth. But you know how argumentative she can get. I thought if I got her angry, it would be easier for me to go, and she wouldn't be upset and asking me to stay."

"But instead of being angry, she was hurt."

"Please, Bunny. I can't go through this again," Vegeta whispered.

Mrs. Briefs could see him biting at his lip. If she continued to press for details, he might break down again, and she knew he was embarrassed enough at having shown as much emotion as he had the night before. It wasn't necessary to see again; she knew his tears had been genuine. He'd learn someday that emotions weren't bad, and learn how to express himself better. That's what he hadn't been able to do, she realized. Her husband had been right. Vegeta hadn't been able to express himself to Bulma, so he was mean to her instead. "Okay, Dear. Have some dinner and try to get some rest, all right?"

He nodded again.

She got up and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night, Vegeta." Just before she shut the door, she heard him call her name. "Yes, Dear?"

"I haven't really discussed this with Shatsu at all," he began hesitantly. "But I want him to understand."

Perhaps Vegeta was having trouble facing her husband that way. Maybe she seemed less threatening than he did. "I'll talk to him, okay?"

"Okay," he repeated. "Good night, Bunny."

"Good night, Vegeta. Sleep well, Dear." The door shut, and once again Vegeta found himself alone.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: I don't really have much to say except that this was another chapter that wasn't easy to write. But everyone hang in there. It can't be so tough a road forever, can it?

Thanks to everyone who has left a review. They really do mean a lot. :)

Lastly, thanks to my husband, who continues to diligently read this story for me. All my love, sweetie.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"So c'mon, Vegeta. What do you say? Will you spar today or not?"

Vegeta sighed and set down his coffee mug. "I don't know, Kakarrot," he responded hesitantly.

"What were you planning to do today?" Goku persisted. "Are you going to be training?"

"No."

"Then c'mon, let's spar. What else is there to do in the middle of winter?"

Vegeta eyed Bulma, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. She'd pointedly ignored him when he'd greeted her good morning, although her mother and Goku had both received cheerful responses to their greetings. "I thought I'd mind my son today," he mused.

There was no response whatsoever from the blue-haired woman stirring her coffee.

"Oh, don't worry about little VJ at all," Mrs. Briefs interjected. "I'm not going anywhere today, so I can watch him."

"But you had him all day yesterday," Vegeta pointed out. "Wouldn't you like a break?"

Mrs. Briefs pooh-poohed his question with a wave of her hand. "You've been helping Shatsu in the lab quite a bit lately, Dear," she responded. "You go right ahead and have your spar. You should get out of the house for a bit since it's such a beautiful day today."

Vegeta could tell that the older woman was not going to take no for an answer. "All right," he conceded. "Bulma, we will be at Kakarrot's house should you or Shatsu need my assistance further."

Silence.

Vegeta got up from his chair and handed his son to Bunny. "Let's go," he told Goku, slipping on his boots and coat. His voice remained neutral, but anyone who knew him well would be able to detect the frustration, disappointment and, yes, hurt in it. "See you later, ladies."

"Bye!" Goku yelled happily. He was looking forward to sparring.

"Bye Vegeta, Goku," Mrs. Briefs said with a smile.

"Bye, Goku. Don't be a stranger," Bulma responded before leaving the kitchen with her coffee.

The room was silent for a moment before Vegeta opened the door and blasted off into the cold outside.

"I don't know what else to say to either of them," Mrs. Briefs said sadly, her smile now a frown. "He tries so hard even to simply talk to her, but she'll have none of it." She reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "Anyone can see how sorry he is that he hurt her, and that he loves her. I can't imagine how badly he must be hurting."

Goku drew in a deep breath. "I'll try talking to them," he offered. He searched out for Vegeta's ki, gave Mrs. Briefs a quick little wave and disappeared.

"Gah!" Vegeta stopped mid-flight when the younger Saiyan suddenly appeared beside him. "Have you any idea how annoying that is, Kakarrot?" he complained before continuing on. "No wonder your wife has destroyed so many kitchen implements on that rock you call your head."

"Sorry, Vegeta," Goku said apologetically, but he couldn't help but chuckle. Kitchen implements. Vegeta could be so funny sometimes.

Before long they reached Goku's house. "Hey, Vegeta?" Goku began as they touched down.

Vegeta sighed. That hadn't taken long. "Just ask, Kakarrot. But I don't know what to tell you. I don't know why I did what I did."

Goku nodded. Mrs. Briefs was right; Vegeta really was torn up over all of this. "Do you love Bulma?"

The prince standing beside him found himself completely off-guard. That hadn't been what he'd expected at all. "I..." He turned away.

"Vegeta, Bulma is my best friend. You really, _really_ hurt her," Goku told him in a low voice. "I know you're sorry that you hurt her, but if you don't love her, that changes a lot of things." He crossed his arms. "Do you love Bulma?"

The older man drew in a deep breath before nodding.

Vegeta was still turned away but Goku didn't miss the nod he gave. "Okay," he said softly. "Please don't give up on her, then."

Vegeta turned to face him. It was evident that he was struggling to control his emotions. "I..." He stopped and simply nodded again, but it wasn't how he felt. He'd been trying for the better part of a week to get her to even talk to him, and her cold attitude was rapidly wearing at him. Even worse was the open affection she showed to her boyfriend. She made no attempt to be discreet about it, and he would swear that on a couple of occasions in particular she deliberately threw herself at the man to hurt his feelings.

By the gods, that's what it really was. He'd allowed the woman into his heart, and she was tearing it apart. Feelings he didn't know existed had risen to the surface. Not only was it extremely depressing but it was slowly killing him inside.

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe he didn't need to learn to deal with the pain. He needed to be rid of it.

Permanently.

"Let's do this before I change my mind," Vegeta muttered, taking to the air.

* * *

Goku found himself worried. Vegeta was obviously depressed, but it ran deeper than that. He was heartbroken. His heart wasn't in the spar at all. He hardly seemed to be on the offensive at all but was just blocking whatever attacks came his way. Maybe he should try a different approach- oh Kami, no.

No!

A feeling of cold dread rushed over Goku as he raced down to where Vegeta had plummeted to the ground. He wasn't moving, and Goku wasn't certain that the prince had even attempted to block his punch despite the fact that he'd successfully blocked that attack many times before. It was almost as if, well, if they'd been on the ground instead of in the air, he would have been just standing there. "Vegeta! Vegeta, are you all right?" he exclaimed.

Vegeta didn't respond.

"Oh, man," Goku groaned, feeling for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he found one, and picked the unconscious prince up.

* * *

"Chi-Chi, where are you?" Goku shouted as he nudged the front door open. "Chi-Chi! I need your help!"

"Coming! I'm coming!" Chi-Chi shouted back as she ran toward the front room. She'd been folding the laundry when she'd heard her husband's frantic voice and found herself worried. Rarely had she heard him sound like this. She blinked when she saw Vegeta slung over Goku's shoulder. "What on Earth happened?"

"I... I hit him hard, Chi," Goku confessed, walking to their bedroom and flipping back the blankets on the bed. He laid the unconscious prince onto the mattress and knelt beside the bed. "It was like his heart wasn't in it, because he didn't even try to block me, like... like _wanted_ to get hurt." He looked up at his wife with distressed eyes. "Why would he do that?"

Chi-Chi didn't like Vegeta, even less so after what he'd done to her friend, but the confusion and concern in her husband's eyes prevented her from saying anything, nor did she chastise him for not removing his mud-covered boots or for laying his equally dirty sparring partner on her freshly washed sheets. She could see that Goku felt guilty for hurting Vegeta, and being the gentle-hearted man he was, he hadn't meant to or wanted to. "I couldn't claim to know, Goku," she murmured, shooing her husband aside to take a look for herself. She winced when she saw the injury. Vegeta's face was rapidly swelling, and one eye was completely swollen shut. She touched his jaw, confirming that it was broken, shattered, more accurately. It was amazing that Goku hadn't snapped Vegeta's neck, which in all likelihood would have killed him. "Please go get me a wet wash cloth and a towel to clean him up with."

Still wracked with guilt, Goku nodded and left the room without hesitation.

Chi-Chi sighed as she removed Vegeta's coat and boots. She'd gotten an angry rant from Bulma over the phone after he'd returned and a couple others since then. Vegeta had hung around Capsule Corp despite her not wanting anything to do with him. Mrs. Briefs had called asking her to keep an eye on Vegeta, stating that he hadn't even wanted to leave to spar that morning, intending to mind his son instead, until she'd assured him that he should go, that she would take the baby. Why would Vegeta behave that way?

Suddenly, it struck her. Could it be that Vegeta did care? Could he actually love Bulma?

She hadn't had the opportunity to observe the prince's attempts at interaction with Bulma, but it was obvious that he hadn't given up on talking to her, as Bulma had made some exasperated comment that he just wouldn't leave her alone, that he was too thick to get the point. Oh, but it all made sense now. Either Vegeta was trying to displace his hurt or get Bulma's attention by injuring himself, or he really _had_ wanted Goku to kill him. She'd had no idea it had been that bad.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Goku's return. "Here, Chi." He handed her the requested linens and took a step back. "He's... he's not going to die, is he?"

It was then that Chi-Chi felt pity not only for her husband but also for the prince. It did seem that he could be looking for a way to die that wasn't at first glance cowardly or suicidal. But why put that on her Goku? The man was seriously troubled, no doubt about that. "No, Goku. He won't die. But he's-"

"Really messed up," Goku blurted. "I almost... Chi, if I hadn't pulled my punch at the last moment, I bet I would have killed him."

Chi-Chi stopped wiping the blood from Vegeta's face long enough to reach over and touch Goku consolingly. "He's breathing and he's not convulsing. We'll take him over to Capsule Corp and put him in that tank Bulma built. Okay?"

Goku had the bottom of his gi in his hands and was twisting it anxiously. "Thanks for helping," he murmured. "I know you don't think Vegeta's a very nice person."

Chi-Chi rose and wiped her hands clean. "That may be so, but I still would never just stand here and do nothing, especially since you consider him to be your friend for some reason only Kami knows."

Goku gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "He's not as bad as he wants people to think," he insisted. "He's a good person deep down, but all his life everybody's always hurt him." Goku paused, then drew back to look at his fallen friend. "I know he's depressed, but do you think he did it because he's hurting so badly about Bulma?"

Chi-Chi nodded slowly. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes. But as I said before, I can't claim to know what his motives are." She looked over at Vegeta. "Let's get him over to Capsule Corp. There's nothing more we can do for him here."

Goku nodded and carefully scooped the prince up again. "Hold onto me."

Chi-Chi did so and waited. When they didn't go anywhere, she looked up to Goku. "Why are you waiting?"

"I can't find anybody's ki at home," Goku told her worriedly. "I'm going to try to find Bulma or her dad."

* * *

"Bulma?"

Bulma frowned. Something just wasn't right. The niggling feeling in the back of her mind bothered her.

"Bulma!" Dr. Briefs had noted her acting distracted at times lately, but he hadn't seen her _this_ spaced out since the day the GR had exploded. He reached out and took her arm.

"Huh?" Bulma jumped in surprise. "What is it, Daddy?"

"I was trying to ask you the same thing," Dr. Briefs informed her. "You've been staring off into space the entire progress report."

"Sorry," Bulma apologized sheepishly. Everyone at the large conference table was looking at her, and it was embarrassing. "I don't know what happened. A feeling in the back of my mind, poking at me as if something's wrong..." She paused. This wasn't the first time she'd felt this. Her brows furrowed as she tried to place the feeling. Oh. Oh! Realization showed in her face. "Vegeta?" she muttered incredulously.

Before another word could be spoken, Goku appeared in the room, causing its occupants to cry out in startlement. "Bulma, thank goodness I found you!" he exclaimed. "I need your help right away!"

Chi-Chi was holding onto him, and in his arms...

Bulma just sat there, dumbfounded.

Dr. Briefs leapt up from his seat. "Good Kami, what happened to him?" he asked, rushing over to them. "Meeting adjourned, everyone. We'll reschedule this."

"We were sparring, and he didn't react, and I hurt him," Goku babbled, the stress of what he'd done well and truly hitting him.

"Wait, slow down, Goku," Dr. Briefs instructed, herding him and Chi-Chi to the door. "Let's get to the medical lab. Bulma, come with us."

Bulma got up and followed her father blindly. Vegeta had been injured, and she'd _felt_ it, just like she'd known something was wrong right before the GR exploded. She'd had a similar weird experience shortly before Vegeta had come back and her father had mentioned blood in the GR. Could something serious have happened while he was in space?

"Put him down here," Dr. Briefs told Goku, interrupting his daughter's thoughts. "Let's take a look."

"I cleaned him up as best as I could, but his face, it's just, well, crushed," Chi-Chi murmured. "Goku said they were sparring and Vegeta didn't bother to even try to block his attack."

"What kind of attack was it?" Dr. Briefs was doing a remarkable job of keeping his voice level, given the extent of his patient's injuries.

"An uppercut. He always blocks uppercuts," Goku mumbled. "I... I could have..."

"Shh, he'll be all right, Goku," Chi-Chi told him consolingly. "We'll put him in the healing tank," she reminded him.

"If I can manage to get the mask to stay on his face," Dr. Briefs mused to himself. It was amazing that even a full-force uppercut had done this much damage. He'd personally witnessed both Goku and Vegeta withstand much worse. He'd have to question Vegeta once he was healed.

"Oh, Kami."

The three attending to Vegeta turned around. Bulma was looking over her father's shoulder, staring at Vegeta's face. Her voice hadn't sounded horrified, scared, anxious, or anything like that, just devoid of emotion.

"Bulma, get me the medical tape, please," Dr. Briefs requested, "then prep the tank."

Bulma nodded mutely. She had the notion that Vegeta might have done this as a silent way of pleading for her attention and couldn't help but feel guilty. _All he wanted was to talk to me. But how could he do this to poor Goku?_ her mind raged, immediately switching tracks and pushing away any guilt she might have been feeling. _Didn't he care about how upset and guilty Goku would feel?_ Any concern she might have felt for Vegeta's plight was shelved in favor of her friend's sensitivities. _I should help fix the jerk up just so I can give him a piece of my mind!_ "Here." She tossed the tape onto the bed next to Vegeta.

Chi-Chi turned around to look at her friend. "Bulma, I know you're hurting and Vegeta was never what you'd call a friend of mine, but even I have to say that that was quite cold of you," she noted sternly. "Don't you care in the slightest?"

"Of course I do," Bulma responded smoothly. "Goku's my friend, and he doesn't need something like this on his conscience."

The room was silent for a moment.

"I don't even know who you are anymore, Bulma," Goku murmured sadly. "You wouldn't let Vegeta try to explain to you or even say he was sorry, and I know he is. I could see the hurt in his eyes, no matter how much he tries to hide it. Now you don't care that if I hadn't realized he'd dropped his ki and hadn't pulled my punch, my hand would have gone right through his head. I just can't believe that you can be so mean and heartless to anybody, no matter what they did to you. I mean, you forgave Yamcha every time you guys fought. I don't understand how you can just totally hate Vegeta now, after all you've been through together." He frowned sadly. "I really hope that _I_ never make you mad at me, because I don't want to lose my best friend. That's what you are, Bulma. My best friend. But you need to grow up. I know I do goofy things sometimes, so that's a lot, coming from me. If you can't be an adult, just stay out of the way, so I can help my friend." With that, he turned his back on the stunned scientist. "Let's get him into the tank."

To say Bulma was stunned was an understatement. She couldn't remember Goku ever having said anything like that to her- or anyone else for that matter- before, or that deeply heartfelt of a statement, either. If she thought that Vegeta had hurt him by what he'd done, she'd be right, but the hurt indignation in the younger Saiyan's eyes was indicative that her behavior hurt Goku even more deeply. Goku claimed to have interpreted Vegeta's hurt and understood why he'd done what he had, even if he didn't like it. He understood how she felt hurt too, but not how she could be so mean about it, how she couldn't care. He'd said she needed to grow up. He didn't know her anymore.

Shame rushed over her. He was right. She was being cold and heartless. She was acting like a spoiled brat. How had she become reduced to this?

"I'm sorry, Goku," she whispered simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't tell _me_ that," he rebuffed her, turning back to help Dr. Briefs.

Bulma stepped back and watched as her father taped the breathing mask onto Vegeta's face and they placed him into the regeneration tank. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. Should she feel badly for the man who'd caused her so much hurt? How could they expect her to just do an about-face emotionally and act as though everything was all right between them? She sighed; she had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

Vegeta's eyes slowly opened, his vision obscured by the familiar blue liquid he floated in. Upon realizing where he was, he slowly reached up to touch his face.

It felt fine.

He sighed behind the breathing mask. Kakarrot would be upset. Bulma would be even more upset. Hell, she'd be angry at him. Why couldn't they have just let him die? There was nothing else for him.

_Shut the hell up, Vegeta,_ he mentally growled to himself. He'd be better off determining how to deal with Bulma than feeling sorry for himself over a failed attempt to... to...

First things first. He needed to get out of the tank. Bulma really would kill him if he broke it. No one was around, and he couldn't get out by himself. Why hadn't he mentioned the idea he'd had for an internal release to her? He leaned against the glass. This was stupid.

To his surprise, Bulma entered the lab and wordlessly began draining the tank. She waited impatiently until it was empty and then released the door, throwing a towel at him once it opened. "Get out." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

Well. He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected her to say, but that hadn't been it. "Bulma, I-"

"You shut up," Bulma interrupted. "Do you have any idea what you put Goku through, or are you too selfish to care about how he feels either?" she snapped. "He's so upset that he refused to go home until he can personally see that you're all right. I had to practically hogtie him to keep him out of here."

Vegeta stepped out of the tank and began to dry himself off. His dark eyes watched her, but he didn't say anything in his own defense.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, hmm?" she demanded.

"At least you're talking to me," Vegeta pointed out.

Bulma gaped at him. "You really are a selfish bastard!" she screamed. "Don't you care about anyone but yourself?"

"That's where you're wrong, Bulma. I _don't_ care about myself. Isn't that much obvious?" Vegeta said bluntly. "I will speak to Kakarrot. But you are correct in that it was wrong of me to place this upon him." He slung the towel over one shoulder and dropped the tank's wires and breathing mask inside the tank. "I just... I didn't know what else to do, and it seems that I have simply made myself out to be a spineless coward."

"What else to do?" Bulma echoed sarcastically. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know exactly what it means, Bulma," Vegeta responded quietly. "Thank you for opening the tank." He left the medical lab before she could comment further and headed toward the den, where the heaviest concentration of ki currently was in the house.

Before he even got through the door, Goku leapt up from the couch to meet him. "Vegeta! You're okay!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Vegeta nodded awkwardly. "Look, Kakarrot. I..." He paused. "I'd like to speak to Kakarrot privately," he informed the room's remaining occupants.

Chi-Chi got to her feet. "I think we deserve to know why you would do what you did," she demanded. "Are you so desperate for attention that you would use my Goku to hurt you? What if he'd killed you? He'd have to live with the guilt of that, you know."

Vegeta let out a long sigh. He didn't want to have this discussion in front of everyone. "Yes, he would, and for that sole fact I must offer my apologies."

"Pops," Anya whispered as he turned to leave. His phrasing was clear- he wasn't sorry in the least that Goku had nearly killed him, just that the younger man felt guilt over it.

Chi-Chi sat back down slowly. She hadn't missed Vegeta's meaning, either, or the tortured look in his eyes he'd been trying to hide. "Oh," she murmured. "That's..."

"Very sad," Mrs. Briefs finished, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "He's been trying so hard to make things better, the poor dear. Surely he couldn't have given up so quickly."

"Shh!" Geta held a finger up in front of his lips. "Mother's coming."

The room was quiet when Bulma returned. "Sorry, I had to clean up a certain _someone's_ mess," she bit out irritably.

"You should know that he came by and apologized to Dad," Gohan informed her. He'd come over as soon as he'd located his parents, and had been glad to see that Vegeta had been all right. Despite everything that Vegeta had done, Gohan knew from personal experience that the prince did indeed care, that he did have emotions buried beneath his icy exterior. He'd been shocked to see the man with that exterior façade missing. It just hadn't seemed right. It hadn't been _normal_.

Bulma shrugged. "He's just sorry he got yelled at is all."

Goku scowled at her. "You yelled at him, Bulma? Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Bulma shot back. "He used you to get attention, Goku. He even went so far as to say 'at least you're talking to me.' What a jerk."

"But, can't you see, Bulma? What Vegeta did wasn't like him at all. All he wanted was to talk to you," Goku insisted. "Couldn't you have at least talked to him and let him say he was sorry? Because everyone but you can tell that he is."

"It didn't have to come to this, Bulma," Dr. Briefs agreed. "I think that this was similar to a cry for help from the boy, only he simply wanted a moment of your time."

Bulma pursed her lips. She didn't appreciate them placing blame on her. This was all Vegeta's doing. "So that justifies what he did and makes everything peachy now?"

"No. But I agree with your father in that this was definitely a cry for help." Chi-Chi surprised her by speaking up in Vegeta's defense. "I know even more about living with Saiyans than you do," she continued before Bulma could interrupt, "and doing something that would be seen so dishonorable as trying to take one's own life isn't typical behavior for a man as focused on honor and pride as Vegeta is. We've all seen how that man looked at you, even before he left. Feelings like that don't change overnight. You at least owe him that much."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Bulma exclaimed. "Don't any of you care what he did to me, or to Goku?"

Geta rose to his feet. "We all care, Mother. That's why we're here."

"What is this, a friggin' intervention?" Bulma retorted.

"Not at all, Pumpkin. No one is forcing you to be here," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "We just hope that you'll think about everything that's happened with an honest, objective eye. Put yourself in Vegeta's shoes starting the day he left. Why would he go the way he did? You know the man better than any of us. I hardly think an intervention is necessary."

Bulma stared at her father. "I'm going out," she said simply.

Anya winced as the front door slammed. "Great. Now what?"

"Let's just give her some time to think about it," Mrs. Briefs suggested. "Maybe it'll help her see past feeling hurt."

"We can only hope, Bunny." Dr. Briefs squeezed his wife's hand gently.

"Well, it's getting late," Chi-Chi noted. "We should probably be heading home."

Goku nodded in agreement. "As long as he's okay."

* * *

"Can you believe it? What a jerk." Bulma took a sip of her drink.

"You're here with me now. Just enjoy the evening and don't worry about that loser, Babe."

"What would I do without you, Hiroshi?" Bulma sighed with a smile.

"Let's hope you never have to find out." Hiroshi leaned over to kiss her cheek before going back to his meal.

Bulma took another bite of her dessert. "Oh, by the way, I think I'll be stuck at work late Friday, so I'll have to cancel dinner. Sorry." She gave her dining companion an apologetic look.

"That's all right, Bulma. We'll do it again another night." Hiroshi patted her hand sympathetically.

She nodded. "Thanks. I've got to get home soon because I've got a meeting tomorrow which I'm not completely prepared for yet."

There were a couple of things on Hiroshi's agenda. First off, he didn't actually care whether or not Bulma was right for him or if being with him made her happy. He was only interested in dating her for his own personal gain. Once he got what he wanted, he intended to end it with her. It had to be in a way that no one would suspect his motives. Eastern Country was one option; it wouldn't be his fault if he was 'reassigned' there, would it? Then once he got there, he'd clean up with his company's 'new' design before she could get a patent. No one had to know he'd stolen the idea from Bulma. He just had to listen to her talk and be as involved with the goings-on at Capsule Corp as possible. Bribing that disgruntled lab worker he'd noticed during one of his visits to Bulma might be a viable option.

Secondly, the arrival of her freak ex threw a monkey wrench into his plans. While the pun was amusing, the man's meddling was not. It was more than obvious that the man was tortured by not only what he had done to Bulma, but also by her blatant lack of willingness to even discuss the situation with him. She couldn't look past her anger to see the hurt and unrequited love in his eyes every time she snubbed him. She wanted nothing to do with the man. While that in itself was good for Hiroshi, Vegeta made things difficult for him because he had not shown any indication of giving up trying to apologize and make things right with Bulma. He was _always_ there, constantly trying to be involved through their freak son. Even worse, the monkey still had the Briefs' approval, despite what he had done, while they made no effort to hide the fact that they didn't like him. On the upside, their dislike of him drove their hurt daughter even deeper into his arms.

If he played his cards right, he could make this work. "No problem. We'll head back soon. Meanwhile..." Hiroshi took her hand and stood her up. "Come dance with me." He led her onto the dance floor.

* * *

Vegeta shifted his sleeping son in his arms and sat back a little more comfortably against the pillows cluttering his headboard. After a quick shower he'd felt an inexplicable urge to do what he'd originally planned that morning- mind his son. The boy was all he had left. He'd ruined things with Bulma, and she was even more angry at him now than she was before. He looked down at the child. Maybe the boy would serve as a means to draw her back to him. He sighed. It was wishful thinking and he knew it. But as he'd determined before, he would continue to cherish her, even if she didn't want it for the time being. Hopefully she'd talk to him. Hopefully, she'd change her mind. Hopefully, she'd forgive him someday.

Hopefully, she'd have him back for her mate.

The baby's hands tightened into tiny fists as he yawned and opened his eyes. As the child looked up at him with sleepy blue eyes, Vegeta felt the same warm feeling he'd had the first time this had happened return, only it was different this time. It was stronger, far more intense. He understood the difference now. The first time he'd been in awe of the tiny, helpless being he held, a being that he himself had been directly responsible for the creation of. A bond of possessive protectiveness had washed over him. Now, it was coupled with a deep affection for the boy. Vegeta knew what that affection meant now. He lifted his son up to his shoulder and ran his hand over the silky blue hair on his head. The baby yawned again and settled comfortably against him, making him chuckle in contentment. Yes, he would care for his son, the offspring he never thought would ever be born to him, with the utmost of attentiveness and affection. The boy deserved that and more from him. It was something that Vegeta himself had always yearned for from his own sire but had never received, for that was exactly what his father had been to him- his sire, the man who had merely caused his birth and little else. Vegeta wanted and needed to be more than that to his son.

Vegeta's stomach growled and he got up from the bed, careful not to jostle his son too much in the process. He had caught on rather quickly as to how fragile infants were and how to handle them, thanks to Bulma's coddling. His son was hardly as fragile as a human baby, but that didn't mean he had to be rough with the boy.

Gods, but he was weak- no. That wasn't right, he reminded himself. This boy and the feelings he evoked in him made him strong. If anyone even _tried_ to harm the boy, and he'd show them precisely what weak was not!

He entered the kitchen, where Mrs. Briefs was washing that evening's dishes. "Hello, Dear," she greeted him warmly. "You slept through dinner. Are you hungry?"

Vegeta nodded. "Don't trouble yourself, Bunny. I'll get myself some leftovers."

Mrs. Briefs set down her sponge. "Well... Goku and Gohan were here, remember?"

Vegeta had been about to open the refrigerator and stopped mid-action. "Scratch that idea, I guess," he mused.

Mrs. Briefs laughed. "I thought Goku was even going to lick his plate until Chi-Chi knocked him behind the ears."

Vegeta allowed a smirk to spread over his lips, easily imagining the scene. "Well, I can at least feed my son," he mused. "Are there any bottles left?"

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "Yes, there are a few left," she acknowledged. "How about I order you some pizza?"

"That would be just fine, Bunny. Thank you," Vegeta agreed. Pizza was one of his favorite Earth foods.

"You're welcome," she told him. She reached for the phone. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Dear."

* * *

"What do you think of this one?"

"It's, uhm, nice, Honey."

Anya put her hands on her hips. She knew what was about to come from her husband's mouth. "Don't you dare say it."

"It's pretty foofoo, isn't it Sweetheart?" Geta asked, wincing when she scowled darkly at him.

"It's gorgeous and I love it," Anya insisted, closing the book they were looking at. End of discussion.

Vegeta wandered over, curious despite himself. "What are you two arguing about?"

Anya continued to scowl at Geta. "Cakes. _He_ thinks some boring white plainly frosted thing with absolutely no decorations is perfect, and I wouldn't mind some flowers or fancy string work, or maybe even a nice shell border. But nooooo, it's only the _bride's_ day, so a cake's nothing important, I guess."

"Bride's day?" Vegeta asked with confusion. Suddenly it struck him. By the gods, no! Bulma hadn't known this insolent fool long enough to make such a decision, had she? She wasn't really going to... to... He felt his stomach drop. He was too late. She was completely lost to him now.

"It's perfect. It's the one I want for our wedding," Anya persisted.

"An, can't we negotiate here?" Geta pleaded.

"Your wedding?"

The young couple looked over at Vegeta, who was staring at them blankly.

"I thought you told him."

"No, I thought you wanted to tell him yourself."

"You're his son, I figured you already had."

"I figured you were excited enough about it that you'd murder me if I spoiled your surprise."

"I'm not that bad! You make me sound like some evil, sadistic woman!"

Despite the relief that had washed over him upon finding out just whose wedding they were talking about, Vegeta couldn't help but feel uneasy over the current situation he found himself in the middle of. "Anya? Geta?"

"I never said you were, Dear-"

"Don't 'Dear' me, Geta."

"Damn, I forgot. It's almost that time of the month, isn't it?" Geta mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Anya demanded.

Geta's eyes grew wide as saucers. "I didn't mean it that way, Anya. I meant I should have been mindful of it and-"

"Oh, I get it. You should have remembered that I would turn into a cranky, nasty woman, right?"

"That's not what I meant."

"_Bull_-oney! Go away. I don't even want to look at you right now," Anya yelled, her lower lip wobbling. "I can't believe you would be so insensitive!"

"Anya, please." Geta took her arm to draw her close, but she jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me! Just leave me alone, you uncaring jerk!" She stormed out of the den.

Geta groaned in despair and sank down onto the couch. "Now what have I done?" he moaned. "I didn't mean it the way it came out." He dropped his head into his hands and rested his elbows against his knees.

"Don't ask me, Son. I know exactly what you mean," Vegeta told him in all seriousness. He sat down next to his son. "What does Anya mean, your wedding?"

Geta sat up straight to look at his father. "We decided to get married under Earth law, even though technically we already are by Gerdian law since they don't have ceremonies like we do," he explained. "Long story short, some of the employees saw me around and knew it wasn't you they saw, so Mother made up some story about how we got here. I think it was a rift in the time-space continuum or some other such nonsense. We thought it would be a good idea all things considered and I think Anya kind of wanted to anyway, then Gram got the notion in her head to invite everyone on the planet and have some huge shindig." He sighed. "It looks like I don't even get a say in anything without being accused of forcing my opinion, and if I just sit back and let them do their thing, I get accused of not being interested." He sighed again and rested his chin in one hand. "Now, Anya's totally mad at me, so who knows if it'll even happen at all."

Vegeta stared at his son. "Sounds like you're screwed."

Geta sat up straight again. "Father, I _love_ Anya. How much better could I show her that than to want to do what I couldn't to begin with? I wasn't able to legally marry her here in the future, so I want to do it now. I want her to be happy," he said miserably. "Instead, I made her angry."

"Your mother behaves the same way when it's time for her menses," Vegeta commented thoughtfully. "It must be a female thing."

Geta nodded. "That's all I meant, that I should have remembered that I should be more sensitive of her needs when she's premenstrual. I just should have phrased it differently."

"Or not said it at all. As I said, trust me, I know what you mean," Vegeta reminded him.

Geta sighed still again. "I'll just have to wait for her to calm down, then... then agree on the foofoo girly cake."

Vegeta couldn't hide a wistful little smile. "Be glad, Son. I wish it was that easy for me." He got up from the couch and left the den.

* * *

Vegeta strolled into Capsule Corp's botanical garden. He had to admit that it _was_ rather peaceful as well as beautiful. That meant it was perfectly suited for relaxation, something he rarely indulged in. Extending his ki again, he found the subject of his search perched upon a bench, deep in thought. "Hey."

Anya looked up at him and managed a little smile. "Hey, Pops." She scooted over on the bench to make some room.

Vegeta accepted her unspoken invitation and sat down beside her. "Are you all right?" he murmured. He'd given her some time to cool off before seeking her out. Hopefully she'd calmed down by now.

Her lips were pursed tightly together and her chin twitched slightly, as if she was trying not to cry. "Yeah, fine," she grumbled. "I just can't believe Geta would say something so sexist and insensitive," she complained.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. She knew his son better than that. "Anya, he wasn't trying to be sexist or insensitive," he assured her. "He was just being logical."

"Logical?" Anya asked skeptically.

"Yes, logical. He knows that your monthly menstruation is coming soon and that it affects your emotions. He was thinking aloud, reminding himself that he should have kept that in mind and been more sensitive to the fact, and was irritated that he'd annoyed you because he hadn't. Haven't you ever muttered something aloud to yourself as you were thinking about it?" Vegeta looked at her expectantly.

Anya frowned. "I see. So he should have remembered that I'd turn into the Wicked Witch of the West, right?"

Vegeta didn't understand the reference but grasped the implication. "No, that's not true either." He sighed. She wasn't buying it and he wasn't about to lie in an attempt to soothe her injured sensitivities. "All right, would you like to hear the ugly truth?" he asked bluntly.

Anya looked a little surprised by his question, then crossed her arms. "Okay, yeah. Shoot it to me straight, Pops."

"Fine." Vegeta sat back against the bench. "While males are logical creatures, females are emotional creatures. I've been in contact with enough females in my lifetime that I am quite well aware of how they function. Why do you think the subject of hormonal women is such a big joke? Because it's _true,_ Anya," he told her matter of factly. "A lot of women get nasty, catty and become absolute bitches during their menses. But, as you personally pointed out to me," he continued before she could interject, "some women simply require a little quality time and pampering from their men. You are one of the latter women, Anya, and Geta is aware of that fact. He should have kept that in mind instead of forgetting that it is normal for you to need a little more understanding right around now."

Anya's eyebrow rose higher than he'd ever seen it. "Okay, just where did such a deep observation come from, Pops?"

"Well, personal experience coupled with..." He fidgeted a little uncomfortably as he finished answering.

"What did you say?" Anya asked, leaning in a little closer. Had she heard him correctly?

"I said Dr. Bill." He'd seen the bald headed, loud and outspoken therapist on the television during the afternoon hours.

A smile split across Anya's face. "Are you serious? _You_ watch Dr. Bill?" she squealed in surprised delight.

"A couple of times," he admitted. "Hey, I was bored and had nothing better to do when it came on," he objected defensively when she openly began giggling.

"That's absolutely hilarious, Pops!" Anya exclaimed, continuing to laugh at her father-in-law's expense.

"Hardy har har," Vegeta responded irritably. He wasn't angry, though, just glad he could make her laugh. "Feeling any better yet?"

Anya sighed. "I suppose so. Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're welcome," he told her sincerely. "Try to see things from Geta's perspective. He honestly didn't intend you any offense, and he's sorry what he said came out the way it did. I'm sure he wouldn't have said it at all, given another chance." He took a turn letting out a sigh. "Trust me, I know exactly what he's going through."

Anya sat up to look at him. "Oh, Pops," she whispered. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm so sorry." Her eyes filled with tears.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. What happened between Bulma and me was solely my fault, and I'd give anything to be able to take back what I said." He managed the same smile she had when he'd first found her in the garden. "He's too much like his old man, I guess. Try not to be angry at him for too long. He really does feel badly. He even said something about wondering if you would still consent to marry him."

Anya did start crying then. "Pops, of course I still want to marry Geta," she told him. "I just got upset because he didn't like the same cake, that's all." She paused. "Oh, Kami. How asinine is that?"

He chuckled. "All right, then. Promise me you'll talk things over with him, okay?"

Anya sniffled. "I promise."

"Good girl." Vegeta got up from the bench. "Want to get out of here for a while?" He had found that sometimes simply leaving the premises for a while could be helpful.

Anya shrugged. "I don't know. It's really nice in here. Gerdia doesn't have such harsh winters as Earth does, and I miss its warmth. But you're right. We could both use a little entertainment. You know, loosen up a bit."

"Sure, I suppose that's fine," Vegeta conceded. "But what's there to do here?"

Anya looked up at him, a slow smile forming on her face. "I have an idea. It's kind of something I've wondered about but never had the guts to do."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. What in the world could she mean? He found himself quite curious. "Go on..."

* * *

Bulma entered the house, Hiroshi right behind her. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go by ourselves?" he asked.

"I need to get all the final details to the wedding planner by this afternoon," Bulma reminded him. "Oh, come on. It won't kill you to share me for one lunch, will it?"

Hiroshi managed to suppress a distasteful look. He wouldn't care if they were having lunch with a thousand people. He just didn't want it to be the two people she had in mind. "Fine, fine. But you owe me."

Bulma smiled and kissed his cheek. He was so cute when he joked around. "Thanks. Now where is everyone?" She entered the kitchen to find her son rummaging through the refrigerator.

Geta looked up as she approached. "Hey, Mother."

He looked tired. "Hey, Geta. How about you and Anya catch some lunch with us so we can finalize your wedding plans? Everything has to be set by three o'clock today." She paused upon seeing the look of discomfort on his face. "Geta, what's wrong?" Shouldn't he be happy about this?

Geta ran a hand through his hair. How to put this to his mother? "I, uhm, sort of screwed up with Anya, and she's very upset with me right now," he admitted soberly. "She won't even look at me, let alone talk to me about it."

"Oh, Honey, I'm sure she just needs a little time to cool off. She'll be all right, you'll see." Bulma paused, and her eyes widened slightly.

Her son had the same pained look in his eyes that his father did ever since he'd returned from space.

She felt her stomach twist into a knot when she came to the horrified realization that she'd been doing the same thing to Vegeta. He'd hurt her, yes, but he wasn't trying to ask for her forgiveness for what he'd done, only for the opportunity to talk to her about it, to apologize for hurting her. She'd been cold to him, turning away every attempt of communication from him.

Geta said nothing, but only looked at her with an expression that made guilt rush through her. She couldn't imagine what he must be thinking about her. She must be little more than a hypocrite in his eyes. Who was _she_ to talk? "Geta, I..."

Geta sighed. There was no point in pointing out that she had obviously realized the correlation between his problems with Anya and his father's with her. "Where did you want to go?" he asked quietly, changing the subject to save her from further embarrassment.

"We were thinking about the Lebanon Gardens," Bulma responded in kind. Her son was a good man who cared deeply for the mother of his son. Similarly, after her most recent revelation, she couldn't doubt that Vegeta regretted what he'd done. She thought he'd cared, at least for a while. Maybe he truly did.

"Oh. Anya's never had Lebanese food. It'll be a new culinary experience for her."

"Sounds good." Bulma's guilt intensified when her son's face twitched a little, a visible indication of his struggle to remain in control emotionally. "Let's go find her, okay?"

Geta's mouth twitched again. "She's... she's been blocking me, but Father's in the gardens," he told her. "He's been in and out a couple times, so I'm assuming she's there, too."

"All right." Bulma went over to him. "I'll talk to him, I promise. Okay?" she whispered.

A tiny look of hope flashed through his eyes briefly and he nodded. "Okay."

"Let's go. You must be hungry if you're raiding the fridge," Bulma told him, taking his arm gently.

Geta managed a little smile. "I was just looking for some juice," he told her. "I don't have much of an appetite right now."

Bulma supposed she deserved that, but before she could say anything Hiroshi spoke up. "Touching. Are you done yet? I'd like to get lunch sometime today."

Bulma turned and gave Hiroshi a withering look. "Keep your shirt on, okay? Grab your coat Geta, so we can go."

Geta nodded. "I'll be right back," he told her, leaving the kitchen.

Bulma waited for the door to shut before speaking. "For Kami's sake, Hiroshi. Could you possibly be any more insensitive today?" she complained sourly.

"You're overreacting, Bulma," Hiroshi responded defensively. "They'll both get over it."

"Ugh! You're impossible," Bulma complained.

"Whatever. I still say you're overreacting," Hiroshi insisted.

Bulma said nothing and crossed her arms as she waited. Momentarily the door opened and Geta came back in. "Gramps said he'd watch the kids while we're gone and asked us to bring him something," he reported as he slipped his coat on.

"Thanks, Sweetheart," Bulma responded. "Ready?"

He nodded and opened the door, stepping aside so they could go through. Wordlessly they trudged along the path which had been cleared of snow and headed toward the nearby botanical garden.

* * *

Vegeta and Anya were laughing insanely as the three approached, so amused by whatever had happened that neither immediately noticed their presences.

Geta sniffed, and an eyebrow rose. "It smells like..." His eyes widened at what he saw.

"Aww, dang it... I spillded my beer, Pops," Anya whimpered, her face falling. "Now whatta I do?" She giggled, her pout vanishing instantly.

"Don't you worry, there's more where that camed from." Vegeta patted her arm reassuringly. "I'll getcha one." He rose from the bench and promptly swayed on his feet. "Whooee, head rush!" he announced loudly, grabbing the arm of the bench. He shook his head to clear it.

Anya laughed as if that was the most hysterically funny thing she had ever witnessed. "Watch out!" she shrieked when he almost tripped over the cooler he'd brought in. "Don't squish the beer!"

He looked at her, frowning. "I'm not gonna do that. Uh-oh, only one left. Here, catch!" He underhanded her the beer, which landed only a few feet away. "Whoops."

They both stared at the beer for a moment, then broke out into peals of laughter.

Anya reached over and picked it up, then dusted it off. "I don't think I want this one anymore, Pops," she announced solemnly, her big green eyes looking up at him sadly.

Vegeta contemplated her statement. "Aww, c'mon, An. I'm losing my buzz fast, and there's no more beer left. I want to have fun while it lasts." A wicked grin slowly spread across his face. "Let's open it anyway!" he suggested covertly, as if it were a secret.

Anya stared at him, her face growing red before she nearly screamed with laughter. "Oh my Kami, that's styherical!" she shrieked.

Vegeta groaned, holding the sides of his head. "Oh, my ears!" he complained.

"Ooops, sorry," Anya apologized. "I forgetted. My bad!"

"It's okay," he assured her. Whatever else he meant to say was cut short when Anya grabbed his hand for a second, then shook up the beer at a violent rate and cracked open the top.

"Wheeee!" she sang, dancing around in circles and waving the spraying can of beer above her head.

Vegeta dodged away from the spray. "Damn, Girl. You're even more wasted than I thought." While his buzz hadn't been very strong, it had felt nice while it lasted. Anya, on the other hand, might weigh a mere third of what he did and therefore was far worse off than he was. He grinned, watching her have her fun. No wonder she'd always thought about doing this- it _was_ fun. As long as she was having fun, why not do the same himself and pick on the prick? "You're a fun drunk, too. Isn't that nice, Hiroshima?" A broad grin spread across his face. "Anya, too bad you wasted that beer. We have guests," he announced.

Anya turned around and saw the others. "Heyyyy, peoples! Whassuuup!" She staggered over, giggling, and threw her arms around her gaping husband. "Me an' Pops got totally sloshed. You shoulda come with!"

Geta snapped out of his shocked surprise and caught her as her knees gave out and she began to slide down his body. "Damn it, Father! What the hell were you thinking?" He hauled his inebriated wife upright and held her steady against himself.

"Hey!" Anya objected, hitting his chest weakly with her fists. "It was my idea, bushter! He just got the beer." She frowned up at him. "And I'm ticked off at you, you big jerk!" She blinked at him, then giggled. "But you're still cute. Cute and kissable!" She threw her arms around his neck and, manipulating the ki she'd sapped from Vegeta, pulled Geta down to her level, kissing him soundly.

"Anya-" he objected, but she silenced him with another kiss. Slowly, his arms wrapped around her as he forgot all about his earlier indignance at his father in favor of enjoying the feeling of his wife's soft, warm lips against his.

Hiroshi was shocked. "What kind of loose, reckless behavior is being encouraged here? I told you, Baby, this... _individual_ is a worthless loser."

"Hiroshi!" Bulma exclaimed, embarrassed by both the situation- which it appeared that Vegeta had either instigated or done nothing to prevent- and her boyfriend's rude reaction. "Really, are insults necessary? You know Anya was upset. They weren't causing any trouble, just having fun." _Lame excuse if I ever heard one. Damn it Vegeta! Why am I defending you if you're going to act like a complete idiot? Why am I defending you at all?_

The light bulb in Vegeta's brain suddenly switched on, and he quickly used the situation to his advantage. "Hey, bro. I'm not as bad as I seem," he drawled, allowing his attention to be diverted back to the heavily necking couple beside him. He smiled saucily. "I'm just having some fun. And I think that looks fun," he commented, jerking a thumb his son and daughter-in-law's direction. He sidled up next to Bulma. "Hey, how about a little sugar, Honey?" he purred, tossing her a wink and a flirtatious smirk.

Bulma's cheeks went red. Her boyfriend was standing right there! But even more disconcerting was that Vegeta had never used pet names or shown open displays of affection before. And she was angry at him! "Vegeta, I, uhm..." She smiled weakly as he drew closer. Just the remembrance of his hands, those lips, his firm chest...

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Hiroshi demanded. "Hands off, Tarzan."

Now, _this_ reference Vegeta was familiar with. While watching television one day, he'd come across a movie with this Tarzan character in it. He'd watched the rest of it, considering a program with a warrior who had his own battle cry to be worthy of his attention. "I dunno, Jane looks particularly appealing right now," Vegeta replied smugly. He snaked an arm around her waist. "What's the matter, you afraid she'll prefer her old worthless loser boyfriend over the new worthless loser one?" He grinned as Hiroshi's face reddened.

"Of course not, you uncouth, foul mouthed idiot," Hiroshi retorted.

"Then whatcha got to worry about?" Vegeta countered. "Hey... Baby, is it? You see, Baby, I only get one, so I'm gonna get the best out of it I can." He pulled her close, whispering in her ear. "Oh, and Bulma? By the way, I was hardly tipsy when you three walked up. Just enjoying the last of my buzz."

Her eyes widened. "Vegeta, I..." she murmured nervously.

"Oh yes, I'm sober, fully aware and in complete control of my actions," he informed her breathily. "Just want to have some fun, without anyone getting hurt, you know?" His lips brushed over Bulma's earlobe lightly, making her shiver and turn a lovely shade of bright pink.

"What kinds of perverted things are you saying to her, you pathetic lush?" Hiroshi demanded. "Remove your hands from my girlfriend immediately."

Vegeta shrugged his objections off. "I guess everyone looks like a winner at the starting line, huh?" He moved in to kiss her.

Bulma's eyes grew wide. On the one hand, she found his mysterious bad boy behavior deliciously attractive; on the other, the playful part of it was so unusual that she found it almost as unnerving as the fact that Hiroshi stood there making threats but did absolutely nothing to back them up. "Vegeta..." Her voice came out in a whisper. No! She was angry at him. She didn't want him to do this!

She let out a high-pitched noise of objection and struck his chest with her fists when his lips touched hers, but soon their familiar warmth soothed away any protest her mind had begun to gather. He began slowly, softly, and only when her eyes fluttered shut and he felt her relax and begin to respond did he intensify the kiss. The nagging thought in the back of her mind that she was kissing that jerk Vegeta in front of- uhm, what was his name again?- her boyfriend was lost as her fingers found their way to his hair and entwined themselves through it, pulling the two of them even closer together. He had never kissed her with such intensity, such passion, as he did at that moment. It was a mind-blowing sensation which rendered her brain completely defenseless.

Vegeta unconsciously let out a contented sigh as she took the initiative, cradling her in his arms securely, never wanting to let her go. :Bless you for this Kami,: his mind praised in gratitude. :If only she would just let me love her the way I should have that day.: His arms tightened around her.

Startled, Bulma's eyes shot open and she broke the kiss. :Vegeta?: she responded incredulously. :Did you just...:

:Bulma?: Vegeta seemed just as surprised. :How did you establish a mind link with me?: He had the mental equivalent of a blank stare. :Oh... I projected earlier, didn't I?:

She gave him a tiny nod. :Yes. Yes, you did.:

He almost panicked but simply relaxed, realizing that there was no point in denying what he wished she could understand in the first place. Even so, he couldn't prevent a tremor of fear of her rejection from rearing its ugly head. :Bulma, I...: he stammered, not knowing how to handle the emotions he was feeling. :Well, at least I am being completely honest with you this time. I'm sorry, Bulma.: He released her from his grasp, unable to meet her eyes. "For hurting you. I embarrassed you just now," he whispered, turning away from her.

"Vegeta, I..." she began, reaching out to him. His voice held so much pain and misery that it shocked her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated in a soft, sad voice. "I just can't handle it, Bulma." With that, he took to flight to leave the garden post-haste.

"What a coward," Hiroshi sneered. "First he won't say what he obviously thinks, refuses to do anything about it unless it will insult me, and now he runs away instead of facing up to his actions. What a spineless dog! I find myself wondering what you ever saw in him, Babe."

Bulma was torn; on one hand, Vegeta had been right; she had been embarrassed by what had just happened. It was not really because of the kiss itself, which she had in actuality immensely enjoyed, but she was mortified by the fact that she had enjoyed it despite her anger at him and had allowed it to happen at all, especially in front of her boyfriend.

On the other hand, she had to deal with the realization that she had actually missed and even subconsciously longed for at times Vegeta's touch, his kiss, the way he held her and murmured in her ear with that voice that always made her weak in the knees. But he'd hurt her terribly. Could she just forgive him and take him back with open arms because he had admitted he had made a mistake and said that he was sorry, had even confessed he had feelings for her, albeit indirectly, and because he was obviously so miserable over the entire situation? What would he learn? Did he truly mean it, or was the whole 'accidental' projection of his thoughts to her just a big setup? How would it look for her reputation, not to mention Capsule Corp's, if she terminated her relationship with one man, started a new one with another man, then suddenly and inexplicably was back with the first one? What about Hiroshi? His behavior had been far from stellar lately when he came over but, although she couldn't condone it, she understood the reason behind it. And what about Vegeta's behavior, for that matter? Despite his obvious efforts to be civil to Hiroshi, he had certainly never been the poster child of excellence as far as behavior on the whole. What if she let herself open up to him as he desired and he ended up hurting her again? She wouldn't be able to handle that. Her head was reeling with all of the thoughts racing wildly through it. But at least she knew of one thing she was sure about.

She spun around to face her antagonist. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing about you, Hiroshi!" she spat angrily. "How dare you speak that way of him, especially in front of his family? And for that matter, you have also insulted me, the woman you claim to care for. What can you say in your own defense about that, hmm?" She crossed her arms, scowling at him, her blue eyes flashing fire, daring him to contradict and outclass her accusations.

Hiroshi scowled right back at her. "I don't feel the need or the desire to tolerate this shameful behavior any further," he told her snidely, "and your behavior isn't helping either. If you would kiss your pathetic ex right in front of me, what else are you doing behind my back?"

Bulma went pale. "Hiroshi, I haven't done anything," she whispered, embarrassed and horrified by the insinuation. What had she just done? It was like cheating!

"No, obviously not," Hiroshi retorted snobbishly. "How about you do nothing else and take your ex to lunch too?"

"Hiroshi, wait!" Bulma called after him as he walked away. "Don't go like this!"

Hiroshi kept walking as she ran after him. "I'm going now, Bulma. But before I do, you should know that among the things that drew me to you are what I perceived to be loyalty and honesty. I see that I might have been wrong about that."

Bulma took hold of his arm. "I never meant for that to happen," she whispered, tears of shame in her eyes. "It was a mistake, and I'm sorry. Please believe me when I say I would never cheat on you," she pleaded.

He had her right where he wanted her, penitent and remorseful. "We'll see, Bulma. But I think it would be best if we didn't have lunch today. I'll see you around," he told her, a condescending tone to his voice that she was too upset to pick up on.

Bulma's shoulders drooped as he left the grounds. He was right. She prided herself on honesty and loyalty, and she'd kissed Vegeta right in front of him. How could she have done such a thing to her boyfriend, the man who had been so good to her through all her problems?

Geta watched the scene with disgust. The man his mother was dating was rude, manipulative, and condescending to her. Why couldn't she see that? He held in a sigh when Bulma bit at her lip in an attempt to keep calm. "Mother?" he ventured. "Why don't we just take Anya inside and I'll fix us some lunch, okay?" he suggested softly.

Bulma nodded and headed toward the house. She felt absolutely wretched, and going out right now was the last thing she wanted to do.

They entered the house through the kitchen, where Vegeta happened to be making sandwiches. "I'll go put Anya to bed," Geta spoke up before one of his parents could react. He carried his sleeping wife out of the kitchen.

The silence in the kitchen was brutal. "Would you like some?" Vegeta finally spoke up.

Bulma was about to decline his offer when the look in his eyes made her accept his offering. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome," Vegeta murmured in response. He nudged the plate of sandwiches closer to her.

She took one and let her eyes drop from his. He was looking at her with longing, regret, and what was unmistakably a tiny glimmer of hope. She'd promised Geta that she'd talk to him, but after what had just happened she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Thanks," she repeated, quickly leaving the kitchen.

Vegeta sighed deeply as the kitchen door shut. He didn't blame her for rushing out. The entire situation in the gardens had been awkward and embarrassing. He hadn't needed to do that. And what was more, now his son would be irritated at him too. He sank down at the table, thoroughly stressed and irritated at himself.

The door opened again. "Explain what just happened."

Vegeta turned to face his son like a man. "It was my fault," he admitted. "She asked me for the beer and I should have suggested an alternative way of blowing off stress."

"Anya asked you for the beer?" Geta asked in surprise. He'd hardly ever seen his wife drink anything other than juice or water, and perhaps the occasional soda.

"Yeah. I guess deliberate drunkenness was something she was oddly curious about but never did." He sighed again. "Listen, I know you're angry and rightfully so, but you should know that we talked and I think she'll be all right. She also indicated that she has every intention of going on with your wedding plans, and was saddened that you would think otherwise."

Geta's eyes closed momentarily as he let out a little sigh of relief. She still wanted to marry him, thank Kami. "I guess I should be mad at you, Father, but I'm more concerned with what _exactly_ happened in there after we walked in."

Vegeta shook his head helplessly. What was he supposed to say? "I just wanted to. I _needed_ to."

"You pretended to be drunk to kiss Mother?" Geta asked in order to clarify.

Vegeta nodded. "But I told her I was sober before I did it," he told his son. "Even though she resisted at first, she kissed me back. It felt so good, so right," he murmured. "But I screwed up, Geta. Not only did I embarrass her, but I slipped up and..." He paused and looked down at the floor.

"And what?" Geta prompted, fascinated by a blush that spread across his father's cheeks.

"I accidentally projected what I was thinking instead of keeping it private," Vegeta admitted.

"And?" Geta prompted further. "Father, I'm not trying to be nosy, but if you want my support with how you're acting toward Mother, I can't give it to you if you don't clue me in," he added when Vegeta wasn't readily forthcoming.

Vegeta's cheeks grew even darker. "I wished that she would just let me love her the way I should have."

Geta straightened up. She'd heard him say _that_. Wow. No wonder she reacted the way she had. "Ah. I see." He thought about it. "How did she respond? She looked surprised."

"She was. She didn't say much except to acknowledge that I did project to her." Vegeta still wasn't looking at his son. "I didn't know what to do and there was no point in denying what I'd just done, so I sort of panicked. After all, she hasn't been very accepting of me lately."

Geta was silent for a moment as he mulled his father's words over. His reaction was understandable. He wasn't used to expressing such sentiment and almost certainly had to be afraid of her openly rejecting him or accusing him of being deceptive and untruthful. "I take it she didn't talk to you, then."

Vegeta looked up at his son. "Was she supposed to?"

Geta pursed his lips. "She suddenly saw the similarity between Anya's anger and her own, and promised me that she'd talk to you. But I highly doubt she was expecting you to kiss her when we came into the garden."

Vegeta looked uneasy. "I'd be lying if I said I regretted kissing your mother, but I regret it happening the way it did," he said quietly. "I didn't want to embarrass her and that's exactly what I did. But at least I was truthful with her this time."

"I'll talk to her," Geta offered. "And before you object, I need to finalize the wedding plans anyway, and they do include you. It would be nice if all of this weirdness was over before then."

He might as well allow it; Geta was in this deep enough already. "I suppose," Vegeta relented. "When is the wedding, anyway?"

"In two weeks," Geta informed him. "Mother and Gram had to pull a ton of strings for that to happen."

Vegeta's brow creased. "Why did you wait for so long to make your plans?" he asked curiously.

"Because Anya wants you to give her away," Geta responded. "So we couldn't finalize any dates until you got back."

The pride Vegeta felt by Anya's request was ruined by guilt. "I'm sorry, Son. I really screwed a lot of things up."

Geta couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. This wasn't like what he was used to from his father at all and it weirded him out. "Then let's work at fixing things."

"You're right." Vegeta nodded. He had to start somewhere. Maybe Bulma really would talk to him after all. She hadn't seemed angry by what had happened, but mostly shocked. The anger had probably come later, after he'd so cowardly left the gardens. He could only hope that he hadn't ruined things completely. "By the way... tell Anya that I'd be honored to give her away at your marriage ceremony."

Geta smiled. "I'll do that. And by the way, thanks for helping me out today. It means a lot to me."

"Trust me, I can relate." Vegeta picked up his plate of sandwiches and left the kitchen.

* * *

"Mother?" Geta looked around as he entered the lab where his mother's ki had lead him.

"Over here, Geta." Bulma waved from one of her work benches.

He strolled over to see what she was doing. One of her ki beacons lay disassembled on the table, its delicate circuitry exposed. He laid a hand over one of hers. "Are you okay?"

Bulma sighed and laid down the tweezers she'd been holding. His hands were so like his father's. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Want to talk about it?"

There was no doubt what 'it' referred to. Bulma shrugged and looked back down at her work. "I don't know," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"I think you should know that I already confronted Father about the whole situation," Geta informed her. "Anya, the beer, everything."

She looked up at him. "Oh?"

"Anya actually asked him for the beer," he told her.

Bulma's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Are you serious?" Anya didn't strike her as the drinking type.

He nodded. "I guess she'd heard enough about how much fun drinking was, and just wanted to have a little fun." He shrugged. "I can't say I blame her, seeing as I upset her so badly. I just wished she had talked to me instead."

Bulma shifted uncomfortably. "Geta, look... I just need a little time to think about all of this."

"I know." He reached out to give her a hug. "Father said he just needed to."

Bulma looked up at him. "Needed to embarrass me, you mean?"

Geta frowned. "He didn't purposefully intend to embarrass you," he contradicted her gently. "Think of it this way. When Anya was resurrected, I needed to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. I didn't just want to, I needed to. I'm sure that Father felt the same way."

Bulma nodded but didn't reply.

"He also said he regretted embarrassing you, but not kissing you." Geta smiled crookedly at his mother's reaction. "Why so surprised? I know you are having a difficult time believing it, but Father cares for you very much. And after what I saw today, I find it very difficult if not impossible to believe that there's not even a tiny bit of you that doesn't still care about Father."

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. "He told you that?"

Geta held up his hands. "Hey, look. I'm tired of being the guy in the middle. This is between you and Father, and you need to talk to him about it. He's not going to beg you for forgiveness or anything. He just wants the chance to explain himself and tell you that he's sorry. That's what I'm going to do when Anya's feeling better."

Bulma sighed. Geta was right. Vegeta was making such a huge effort to simply talk to her. He hadn't asked for anything else. "All right, Geta. Just let me think on it for a while."

"Okay. Come on, let's get something to eat and get what we want down in writing for the wedding planner," Geta suggested.

"Oh! I'd forgotten about that," Bulma exclaimed. "We only have a couple hours to get our information to the banquet hall."

"Yep. So let's get a move on." Geta gently guided his mother from the lab.

* * *

Anya awoke with a moan. Her head hurt and her stomach was upset. She tried to sit up but couldn't.

"Hey. You're awake," a familiar voice murmured in her ear.

Anya opened her eyes fully upon realizing that her husband lay spooned behind her, his arms wrapped around her snugly. "Yeah," she groaned, placing a hand on her forehead. "Ugh... Remind me never to do that again." She rested back against Geta a little more comfortably. "Are you upset at me?"

"No, Honey." Geta kissed her neck and rested his head back down with his chin nestled against her head. "I can't say I'm happy that Father gave you all that beer, but I'm not upset at you." His hand ran up and down along her upper arm. "Are you still angry with me?"

Anya sighed. "Geta, I'm sorry about what I said to you. It was a stupid thing to get upset about."

"Shhh... I'm sorry too. But don't worry about that right now. You just concentrate on feeling better." He kissed the top of her head this time. "Have some of my ki. When you're feeling better, I'll show you what Mother gave the wedding planner."

She shifted a little in his arms, and he knew she was anxious over discussing the very thing they'd argued about. "Okay." She wriggled out of her shirt and spooned her back against his bare chest to achieve more skin-to-skin contact. "Thanks."

"Of course."

There was a long pause. "Geta?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Anya."

* * *

"Mother left everything in here for us to go over," Geta commented as he and Anya entered the den. He went over to the stereo. "A little music okay with you?"

Anya nodded. It was pouring rain outside, and the right music always lifted her mood. Of course he knew that. "Absolutely." She sat down on the couch while he fiddled with the tuner to find an easy listening station. She couldn't help but feel a little trepidation; she didn't want another ugly disagreement like the one they'd had the day prior. In hindsight, however, she knew that Geta felt terrible about what happened. She had no doubt that he would have compromised and made selections they could both be happy with.

Geta picked up an envelope from the small end table beside the arm of the couch as he sat down next to her. "Okay..." He pulled the contents out. "We wanted the guests to be able to pick from filet mignon with scalloped potatoes, chicken marsala with linguine, and grilled salmon with rice pilaf, right?"

"Sounds right to me," Anya agreed. "Oh, did you remember to request eggplant parmesan for your grandfather's assistant? She's a very strict vegetarian."

"Yes, we told them that a few people might want that." He set the menu notes aside. "Okay, here's the place setting we picked."

Anya looked at the picture and smiled. It was one of several that they had both liked. "Nice pick. Flowers?"

Geta flipped through a couple more papers. "Flowers, flowers, where are you? Ah." He handed her another page. "For the men's buttonhole flowers, we decided on small white rosebuds with a spray of baby's breath, and mine will have a larger rosebud, hand dyed in a lovely shade of amethyst." He smiled at her reaction. The look in her eyes made him feel like the greatest man in existence.

Anya's lips trembled slightly. "Oh, Honey... you picked purple? Just for me?" She knew he hadn't been too keen on purple.

Geta took her hands in his. "You were right when you said that this will be the bride's day," he said softly. "No one will be paying any attention to me. They'll all be looking at my lovely bride. I want this to be a day neither of us will forget." He kissed her gently. "Of course, I'll never forget our _other_ wedding day as long as I live."

Anya blushed. Gerdians didn't have public ceremonies the way humans did. True, it was made public knowledge when a couple had joined, but the actual joining happened when the man took the lady to be his wife to his home. They were considered man and wife after their first night together. "You're such an animal," she teased. "Is that all you think about?"

"Hmmm..." Geta pretended to contemplate this. "No, I think about food and sparring too, like the good little Saiyan I am," he teased back. "Hey, I've got a hot wife. Can you blame me?" He kissed her again.

Anya giggled from beneath his lips. "Let's finish going over this," she objected gently. "There's time for that later, if you're a good boy."

Geta grinned broadly at the suggestive tone in her voice and the seductive little smile she gave him. "I'll be good, I promise."

"Good." Anya gave him a peck on the cheek. "What about the other flowers?"

"Uhm... small bouquets of white and purple roses for the women, and a large bouquet with roses and baby's breath for you." He handed her a couple other pictures. "Imagine the red roses are purple."

"Ohhh... they're gorgeous," she breathed.

"I have to admit that they are," he agreed. "Oh, and I mustn't forget wrist corsages for Mother and Gram." He pulled one last photograph out from the pile of notes. "Last but not least, the cake."

Anya's eyes widened when he handed her the picture. It was the very cake she had selected, but it had been digitally altered to include shades of purple for the accents and flowers. "But... I thought you hated this cake."

"No, I don't hate the cake. It's just not my personal taste. But as I said, this is more about things being beautiful for you than for me," Geta reminded her. "I want you to be happy, and if you're happy then I'm happy."

She threw her arms around his neck tightly. He chuckled and put his arms around her in return. "Geta, I can't wait for our wedding," she whispered.

"Me too, Sweetheart," he murmured back. He took her hand and stood up from the couch, bringing her to her feet. "Dance with me."

* * *

Bulma tossed down her cell phone with a huff. Hiroshi was supposed to have picked her up for breakfast that morning and when he didn't call, she'd called him. He hadn't answered so she'd left a voice message.

That was a couple of hours ago. He hadn't returned her call, sent a text message, an e-mail, nothing. Fine. If the stupid jerk was mad enough at her that he couldn't even be bothered to officially break their plans, she'd go to lunch with Geta and Anya instead. Their lunch plans had been ruined the day before anyway, and Bulma could tell that Anya felt much better today than she had yesterday, both physically and emotionally. She headed for the den, where she'd left the wedding information they'd given to the planner.

Bulma smiled when she saw her son and daughter-in-law dancing and obviously enjoying themselves. "You two are just big kids," she noted, pleased that their argument hadn't had long lasting effects.

Bulma pushed the sobering thought about her own situation that made its way into her head aside. She couldn't think about that right now.

Geta twirled Anya around, making her laugh with glee. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he complained, winking at his wife. She giggled and nodded.

Bulma's eyebrow raised. There was obviously telepathic conversation happening. "Okay, what's going on- whoa!" She found herself swept up into her son's arms.

"Mother, live a little, okay?" He grinned at her, leading in a way she wasn't able to choose not to follow. "It's raining and dreary outside; why not have a little fun?"

Bulma couldn't help but smile at the young couple's exuberance. It wasn't _their_ fault that Hiroshi was being an ass. "You know what? You're right. Why not?" With that, she allowed herself to enjoy the dance.

The music slowed, requiring a more formal, structured step, but still not quite qualifying as a slow dance. "Did you want him back?" Bulma offered her daughter-in-law.

Anya dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Nah, you're having a good time. Have fun." She smiled, pleased to see Bulma finally smile after moping around the house since yesterday afternoon.

"You dance quite well," Bulma complimented her son. "Did I make you get lessons?"

"No, but did have a very good instructor," Geta replied, beaming at his wife.

"You flatterer." Anya blushed slightly. "He could definitely hold his own when we met. I only showed him a few little tips and a couple other steps he didn't know yet. Like a waltz. _All_ of the Gerdian royals were taught to waltz." She giggled. "Once I got here, a girl I befriended and her boyfriend showed me how to tango. Now _that's_ a dance that could get very naughty."

Bulma laughed as her son continued to guide her across the floor. "No argument there. I know a lot of dance steps since I had lessons when I got old enough to date. Dr. Briefs' daughter was sought out at parties, too."

They were chattering amicably when Vegeta poked his head in. "Geta, you need to..." His brow creased. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's a Gerdian sacrificial rite, silly!" Anya giggled. "Hey, come dance with me. I'm partnerless." She beckoned him in.

Vegeta scowled. "I'm a prince, not a court jester," he objected. "I don't dance."

"That's not true and you know it. Being the crown prince, you were probably taught the basics by the time you were, oh, five or so, weren't you?" Her smirk challenged him to dispute her words.

Vegeta knew he'd been cornered, his face clearly showing it. "No, four," he corrected her glumly.

"So come on in here and dance a couple," she coaxed. Her eyebrow raised. "You know, I've never heard of anyone, royal, noble or otherwise, having to be _commanded _to dance, have you?" Her eyes twinkled at her husband, who was trying unsuccessfully to hold in a laugh. "But there's a first time for everything, I suppose," she mused.

Vegeta blushed slightly. "That's not a proper utilization of your position, _Majesty_," he told her indignantly, coming into the room and taking the hand she so formally offered. He bent down smoothly to kiss it, his eyes all the while watching hers.

"Hmph. You act like I'm making you hug a corpse or something equally disgusting," she teased. "Am I that repugnant to you?" Her lip stuck out in a pout.

Vegeta frowned. "Of course not!" he objected, putting his free hand at her waist and beginning to lead.

Geta and Bulma looked on in surprise. Who'd have thought it? :He's actually really good,: Geta commented. :In fact, very good.:

:I agree.: A little thought that popped up in the back of Bulma's mind that it was too bad Vegeta had never danced with _her_.

They danced for a couple of minutes in silence. Anya had been studying him the whole time. The more she found out about her father-in-law, the more curious she became. She smiled, actually a little surprised at how elegantly he executed the motions, not allowing room for a single error. "Why are you so opposed to this?" she asked incredulously. "You dance wonderfully. And I'll wager you haven't danced in a while, which makes me all the more impressed."

"Hmph. A foolish waste of time," Vegeta griped, glaring at his son who was grinning from ear to ear. Being forced to dance was embarrassing, and he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, since Bulma had skillfully avoided him since he'd given her the sandwich in the kitchen.

"Time better spent training, huh?" Anya teased.

His eyes flicked forward. "Precisely." For the first time since he'd returned, that sounded like a good idea.

Anya sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I still think it's a loss... uh oh, Geta!" she called out to her husband. "Slow dance!" She turned back to Vegeta. "Pops, while I've truly enjoyed dancing with you, I don't slow dance with anyone other than that hunk over there." She winked at her husband.

They smiled knowingly at each other.

Geta steered his mother closer to the other couple. "Switch!" he and Anya chorused.

Before either of their partners realized what was happening, Geta had deftly exchanged his mother for his wife and was now holding her close, swaying gently.

Anya sighed contentedly. "Mmmm... oh, Pops, you don't mind trading me for Bulma for a while, do you?" she asked lazily, not really paying attention to his response anyway. "You two need to practice for the wedding anyway."

Vegeta looked at the woman in his arms, who appeared to be as equally startled as he was. "Uhm... I guess that's fine, as long as you're all right with it, Bulma," he mumbled.

"Uhm, sure. I guess we should practice," Bulma mumbled back.

Vegeta held in a groan. She felt so good in his arms, and he longed to hold her closer. "I'm sorry," his lips moved silently.

Bulma finger lifted to point to his temple, and he took it as her silent permission to establish a telepathic link.

:I never wanted to hurt you, Bulma. I hurt you and I embarrassed you yesterday. I'm sorry for everything.:

Bulma found herself blinking back tears. Had Geta been right about Vegeta not regretting kissing her? :Everything? Then why did you...:

:Kiss you? I just needed to, Bulma. I...: Vegeta swallowed. :I didn't intend to project what I was thinking to you yesterday, but please believe me when I say it was the truth.: He forced the thoughts he was afraid to let her hear to the back of his mind, but the emotions accompanying them were clear as day.

_I miss you._

_I want you._

_I long for you._

_I _need_ you._

"I- I can't do this now," Bulma whimpered, breaking away from him and rushing out of the den.

Vegeta's shoulders slumped. He should have known better than to try to offer an apology when they weren't in private but hadn't wanted to simply ignore her by not talking to her either. What else could he have said that wouldn't have seemed forced and contrived? It didn't matter, because despite not wanting to scare her away again he was now standing by himself, feeling rather awkward and rejected. He'd screwed up for what seemed like the millionth time in a never ending string of failures. Wouldn't he _ever_ get this right?

Anya and Geta exchanged a glance. That hadn't gone well at all.

"Father, I apologize," Geta spoke up. "We shouldn't have put you two on the spot like that."

Vegeta shook his head. "No, it's not your fault. Don't let it ruin your day." He placed two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.

Anya leaned against Geta's chest. "Oh, Pops."

* * *

Vegeta peered down into his son's crib. The baby was still sleeping, his little body twitching in response to whatever dream he was having. "I hope it's better than my dreams," Vegeta murmured, carefully scooping the sleeping child up to his shoulder and holding him close.

The nursery door opened and Bulma paused as she saw Vegeta holding their son, his cheek nestled against the sleeping boy's hair, his heavy brows knit in what could only be anguish. She bit her lip when he raised his head and looked at her.

"Bulma, I..." Vegeta stopped when she averted her eyes. She wouldn't even look at him. He couldn't take it any longer. He gently placed VJ back in his crib. Before Bulma realized what he was doing, he'd opened the nursery window and flown out into the storm. He didn't stop until he'd reached the desert, where he landed and dropped to his knees in despair. He didn't care that it was freezing cold and raining outside. He didn't care that he was alone in this desolate wasteland. He didn't care that he was a Super Saiyan. It no longer meant anything to him that didn't cause him pain. He blocked out the thought that his son and daughter-in-law were worried about him. He didn't want their pity. He only wanted one thing, the one thing he couldn't have.

* * *

The raven haired woman rolled onto her side and curled her arms around the man laying beside her. "Hmmm... good morning," she murmured, appreciating the firm feeling of his well-toned physique.

He got up from the bed and reached for his clothes. "Damn it, Yumemi, it's late. Why couldn't you have set your alarm clock like I asked you to?"

"Oh, come on. You don't have to leave so quickly. Won't you come back to bed, just for a little while?" the woman purred. "I promise I'll make it worth your while." She patted the mattress beside her invitingly.

"You've already done an adequate job of that," he countered, "and I have no desire to be here when your husband gets home." He picked up his coat and left the apartment without another word.

"Hiroshi..." The woman sighed. The handsome ones were always the toughest to keep around.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Short and sweet this time. Thanks go to Infinite Pen for your reviews and for encouraging me to continue with this when the going got rough, and to my husband, who diligently offers his comments on each chapter before I post it.

Oh, one more quick note before I move on: yes, I hate hate hate hate _hate_ spiders. :p

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

"He didn't eat any of it?"

"No, he hasn't touched anything I've brought him. Not even turkey dinner, and he loves my turkey dinner."

"Maybe Anya could-"

"Don't even suggest that. Look how things turned out when I made him dance with me. I'm _not_ going there again."

"But he looks so tired and sad. He must be so hungry. I hate seeing him like this, the poor dear."

"Don't cry, Honey. We'll think of something."

Vegeta could hear the hushed conversation down the hallway even through his closed door. He knew they were worried about him, but it just wasn't enough to snap him out of his self-imposed punishment.

They were worried because not only had he holed himself up in his room for the past three days, refusing to eat, but he hardly slept. The only thing he did was sit and stare at the wall with blank, lifeless eyes. None of them had been able to get a response out of him.

Of course, it could simply be that the right person hadn't tried.

The four ki left the hallway, and Vegeta knew that they were heading for the stairs and probably the kitchen, no doubt to scrounge up some delicious little morsel to tempt him with. He sighed, not wanting to deal with another confrontation.

He got up from his chair and went to the large balcony doors. Opening the latch, he went outside and flew to the back yard where the GR stood, cold and quiet. He went inside for the first time since returning to Earth and locked himself in. "Computer, activate gravity at 750 Gs," he commanded. It was the highest gravity level the GR was currently capable of. Good. Pain was your friend when you otherwise felt nothing at all.

* * *

Geta looked up from the plate of food he was fixing. "Father left his room," he reported. He peered outside. "He's headed for the GR."

Mrs. Briefs frowned worriedly. "You don't think he'd do anything else harmful to himself, do you?"

Geta drew in a deep sigh. "I don't know. Part of me says that we should be glad he's not staring at the wall anymore, but the rest of me has the same worries that you do, Gram. After all, he hasn't even wanted to train before now."

"And, he nearly got himself killed when he sparred with Goku," Anya pointed out.

Dr. Briefs frowned. "We can't tell him what to do. We can only keep an eye on him and hope for the best."

* * *

"Did Pops ever come back in last night?" Anya asked as she situated her son into his high chair.

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "The security was never disarmed, so he didn't let himself in."

"What if he used one of Bulma's ki battery things?" Mrs. Briefs suggested. "They're all over the house."

Geta looked up from his eggs and sighed in exasperation. "Why didn't I think of that?" he growled irritably. They watched him expectantly as he scanned for his father's ki. "I do believe he's in the medical lab."

"I'll go check," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "The rest of you continue with your breakfast."

"But-" Mrs. Briefs started to object, but her husband laid a hand on her arm.

"Please trust me, Bunny," he told her quietly but firmly. "I promise that I'll call you if I need your help."

Mrs. Briefs wrung her apron in her hands. "All right, Dear," she finally relented.

* * *

"Daddy? Are you in here?" Bulma asked as she entered the medical lab.

"Yes, I'm in the back," Dr. Briefs called out.

"Mom said you might... What happened here?" she exclaimed.

Her father was currently programming a lab bot to clean up a large trail of blood on the floor that stretched from a nearby beacon to the regeneration tanks. "Well, Pumpkin, it appears that Vegeta decided to beat the hell out of himself in the GR," he told her bluntly. "I've already swapped out the regeneration fluid in the tank, because it was purple from all the blood."

"Purple?" Bulma repeated incredulously. The regeneration tank should have been more than capable of filtering out any blood from the fluid. If the fluid was purple, there had to be far more blood in it than the tank could keep up with.

"Yes, purple." Dr. Briefs crossed his arms. "It appears that he had just enough energy to teleport inside and drag himself to the tank. I know you're upset, Bulma, and justifiably so, but this ends now. He hasn't eaten, slept or done anything other than inflict pain upon himself for the past three days. You need to talk to the man and stop this insanity. That's all he wants."

Bulma blinked back tears. Vegeta had kissed her so passionately, so- dare she say it?- lovingly in the gardens. The whole situation was confusing the hell out of her. "I... I don't hate Vegeta, Daddy. I didn't want it to come to this."

"Then you need to let him know, don't you think?" Dr. Briefs said softly.

Bulma sniffled and nodded. "You're right, Daddy. I'll talk to him." She turned away from the tank holding her bruised and beaten former lover and left the medical lab before her emotions could get the better over her.

* * *

"Pops, are you sure you don't want even a little bit? It's your favorite," Anya coaxed, pushing the heavily chocolate laden ice cream a little closer.

Vegeta continued to stare at the bedroom wall.

She sighed and backed away. He looked so thin and sickly. What else could she do? They'd all tried everything they'd come up with.

"Ganpa?" a little voice asked.

Anya's eyebrows rose as her son toddled into the room, a cookie in his hand. She'd almost scooped him up and told him to let his grandfather be when it occurred to her that since Vegeta was fond of her son, perhaps the little boy might be able to get through to him. Instead, she stepped back further to silently observe.

"Ganpa?" the child repeated, looking up at Vegeta. He reached up and placed a chubby warm hand on one of his grandfather's knees.

Anya felt her spirits rising, for there it was- a tiny flicker of a response.

"Ganpa..." The child's shoulders drooped and his large blue eyes filled with tears. Didn't his beloved Grandpa love him anymore?

Vegeta looked down at his grandson. A sharp pain lanced through his heart at the boy's tearful blue eyes, his grandmother's eyes. He leaned down to pick him up and stood him on his lap, holding him close.

The little boy threw his arms around Vegeta's neck and rested his head on one big shoulder. "No boo-hoo, Ganpa. Wuv you."

Vegeta let out a ragged sigh and held the boy closer. Both this child and his son had come to mean the world to him, and he couldn't ignore the unhesitating love his grandson was offering.

After a moment Vegeta wriggled around to sit on his grandfather's lap. "Wanna cookie?" he offered, holding up the treat in his hand.

Vegeta knew very well why his grandson had been given the cookie. "You got that because you were a good boy, didn't you?" he asked softly.

The child nodded. "Uh-huh. Ganpa want?"

"But, that's your cookie. You should eat it yourself," Vegeta pointed out.

"No, Veeta wanna give Ganpa cookie," the boy insisted, holding the cookie closer to Vegeta's mouth.

Vegeta couldn't hold in a smile. "You _are_ a good boy," he praised. "Tell you what. I'll have a little piece, and you eat the rest."

"Okay, Ganpa."

Vegeta took a little bite from the cookie and was about to thank the boy when his attention was abruptly diverted elsewhere. Presently a scream was heard.

It had come from Bulma's room.

Vegeta set his grandson down on the bed and rushed to Bulma's room. The door was locked so he broke it down and went inside. He could hear water running in the bathroom and headed that way. Without thinking, he whipped the shower door open.

"Kill it!" Bulma screamed, clutching her shower pouf in a death grip as she shrunk back away from a rather large, hairy spider that had somehow made its way into the shower. It moved, and she jumped and let out a little shriek, backing away into the farthest corner of the shower. "Dear Kami, _kill_ it!"

Vegeta grabbed a piece of toilet paper and reached in to kill the offending beast. He dropped the paper into the trash.

"Is it dead?" Bulma whimpered.

"Completely squished," Vegeta agreed. It was then that he realized that his eyes were travelling along her wet, soapy body and quickly turned his face away, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She was no longer his, and the sight of her beautiful naked body was more than he could bear. "Sorry," he managed before rushing from her room.

Bulma sighed and leaned back against the cold shower wall. How many times had he joined her here? He'd liked to come in and pull her close before-

She shook her head to clear it. Her father was right. She needed to talk to Vegeta sooner than later.

* * *

Vegeta propped the door back on its hinges as best as he could. _That_ had been awkward to say the least.

"Pops? What's going on?" Anya asked hesitantly.

The blush returned to his cheeks. "There was a spider in her shower," he explained.

"Gamma okay, Ganpa?" Vegeta asked, a concerned frown on his plump little face.

His grandfather nodded. "Yes, Grandma's fine," he assured the boy. "She was just scared by a spider, that's all."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "Icky!" He didn't like spiders either.

Anya chuckled at her son. "Did you kill it for her, Pops?" she asked. Her eyebrows rose when he went bright red.

"Uhm, yes," Vegeta muttered in response.

"I see." It wasn't difficult to guess why he was embarrassed.

"So did I," he mumbled, quickly heading back to his room.

* * *

"He saw her in the shower."

"Oh, my..."

"Who knows? Maybe something good will come of this. Maybe it'll break his funk. Mother can't keep avoiding him, not after this- shh!" Geta placed a finger over his lips.

Momentarily Bulma entered the kitchen. She pursed her lips at the sudden halt in conversation. "I know what you were talking about," she said accusingly, a slight blush flitting across her cheeks. "Yes, I'm going to talk to him." She grabbed two Cokes from the refrigerator and left the kitchen.

"I suppose you were right, Geta," Mrs. Briefs mused. "At least they're talking now."

Geta nodded. "Let's just hope for the best and see what happens."

* * *

Bulma took in a deep breath before knocking on the door. She knew she needed to do this, but her stomach was a bundle of nerves.

The door opened and Vegeta stood there just looking at her. "Hey."

"Hey." Bulma held up one of the cans. "Coke?"

"Thank you." Vegeta accepted her offering and opened the door further, stepping aside to indicate that she was welcome to enter. "Listen, Bulma," he began as he shut the door behind her, "I didn't intend to, ah, peep on you in the shower," he mumbled, the accursed blush returning to his cheeks. "I apologize for embarrassing you." He sat down on the end of the bed heavily.

Bulma felt her own cheeks go a little pink. "I, uhm..." How could she just say 'No, it's all right' when things between them were anything but all right? "Thanks for getting rid of the spider," she said instead, the can of Coke in her hand suddenly becoming quite interesting.

"You're welcome," he responded softly. "Any time you have a bug, just let me know."

She looked up at him then. Technically spiders weren't bugs, but this wasn't the time to bring that up. "Thanks."

He nodded and opened his Coke, taking a long gulp of it.

The awkward silence in the room became deafening as neither of them spoke.

"I just wanted-"

"I came here to-"

Both of them stopped at the same time. "Go ahead," Vegeta prompted.

"No, you go ahead," Bulma disagreed. This might be easier if she finally let him say his piece.

"Would you like to sit down?" he offered, rising from the bed.

"Sure." Bulma sat at one edge of the bed, nodding beside her. "What were you going to say?"

He sat back down beside her and shifted a little uncomfortably. All he wanted to do was curl his arm around her and kiss her until she was bright-eyed and breathless before guiding her down onto the mattress. "I just wanted to say that I didn't want to hurt you the day I left," he began quietly. "I've never been more sorry about anything I've done, ever, and I've done plenty to be sorry about." Vegeta took a turn finding his Coke can to be of interest as he looked down at his hands, unable to face her.

Bulma felt her heart twist in her chest. He was probably completely unaware of the pleading, downtrodden expression he'd had on his face. "Vegeta, please look at me," she requested. She placed a hand on his arm when he closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. "Please."

He turned his head to look at her with pained eyes. It was obvious that he was struggling to control his emotions, but she needed to say what she came to say. "You hurt me deeply when you left again Vegeta, especially by the things you said," she told him softly. "If you didn't want to hurt me, why did you do it?"

He swallowed and bit his lip. Gods, this was all he had wanted, to finally talk to her, and he was an inch short of breaking down. But he couldn't, he just couldn't, not in front of her. He drew in a deep breath. "Bulma, I-"

Whatever Vegeta was about to say was cut off when Bulma's cell phone rang. She looked down at it and sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this call." She stood up, then pressed a button and placed the phone to her ear. "Hi, could you hold on just one second, please?" She covered the phone with her hand. "I really want to hear what you have to say, Vegeta. How about I take this call and we have some dinner, then we'll talk, okay? Mom's making fried chicken. I know you like that." It was then that she realized how incredibly tired and gaunt he looked when he looked up at her and nodded.

"All right." What else could he say? It wasn't as if he was in any position to demand her attention. Even though he'd just been dismissed in favor of that wretched portable telephone, it was enough that she'd agreed to talk to him. He watched her leave the room and flopped down backward onto his bed, rubbing his hands over his face. He would not break down. He would _not_ break down...

* * *

Mrs. Briefs knocked lightly on Vegeta's door. "Vegeta? May I come in, Dear?"

"Come in."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door and went inside. Vegeta was lying on the bed, his legs dangling over the end and his hands over his face. She held in a sigh and shut the door behind her. "Are you all right, Dear?"

Vegeta shrugged, his hands still over his face. "As good as can be expected, I suppose."

At least he wasn't acting catatonic any more. "Did she talk to you?"

Vegeta let one hand drop and the other one rested over his forehead as he eyed the blond-haired woman standing beside the bed. "I was about to explain to her when that Kami damned portable telephone rang," he complained. "Evidently whoever was calling her had something more important to say than I do."

Mrs. Briefs frowned sympathetically. "Please don't feel that way. Bulma's been having problems with her..." She paused, bothered by what she was trying to say. "...relationship lately, and it was probably him who called. She's been waiting for him to call her ever since he stormed off the other day."

"Hmph." Vegeta got up, realizing he was being quite rude to his visitor. "As I surmised, a much more important individual desired her attention."

Mrs. Briefs snorted derisively, surprising him. "Whatever," she retorted. "I hardly find his attentions toward Bulma to be important."

Vegeta slowly smiled, then laughed aloud. "You're all right, Bunny."

She giggled. "You're just saying that because I made fried chicken for dinner, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Vegeta kissed her on the cheek, making her giggle again. "But it does sound good, thank you."

Mrs. Briefs beamed at him. "I'm so happy that you're feeling a little better, Dear." Her smile faded somewhat. "But..."

"I know. He's here." Vegeta sank back down onto the edge of the bed. "I can practically smell his stench all the way up here."

She bit her lip. "Bulma said you would come eat dinner with us, but I know it wouldn't be the most comfortable of situations for you. I'd never force you to come."

Vegeta sighed. He had agreed to Bulma's suggestion. How could he expect her to give him another chance if he blew her off this time? "How much longer until dinner is ready?"

Mrs. Briefs looked hopeful. "It won't take long to finish. Most of the chicken is fried already, and Anya is watching what's cooking now. Five minutes, maybe?"

"All right. I'll be down in five minutes," Vegeta promised.

Mrs. Briefs gave him a little smile and left without another word. Dinner would be awkward, that much was certain, but at least he'd be there.

* * *

"Let's eat, everyone!" Mrs. Briefs called out as she set down the coleslaw. Dinner was laid out on the large table in the dining room off of the kitchen. They usually ate in the kitchen, but when everyone was home and guests came, meals were moved to the dining room.

Bulma sat down. "Mom, it smells delicious. Sit here, Hiroshi," she instructed, gesturing to the chair beside her own.

"Thank you, Dear." Mrs. Briefs took her place beside her husband as Anya and Geta situated their son and took their seats. There was only one open seat, and she hoped it truly would be taken tonight.

"Dinner smells wonderful, Bunny," Vegeta echoed Bulma's earlier sentiments as he entered the dining room a couple minutes later.

"I'm so glad. I made it especially for you, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs told him, smiling as he took his seat.

Vegeta returned the smile. "I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

Hiroshi snorted. "Obviously enough that you couldn't even be bothered to show up on time like the rest of us," he scoffed.

"Hiroshi, please," Bulma said weakly. She'd been surprised and distracted by Vegeta's entry; not only had she thought he wouldn't come because of Hiroshi's presence, but he had freshly showered and shaved, and was wearing a sweater and khakis she liked but he'd never worn. He had also put on a cologne she'd bought for him that he'd never bothered to use.

He both looked and smelled fantastic.

"Pass the potato salad, please?" Anya requested, trying to divert the topic of conversation elsewhere.

"Here you go, Anya. So, Bulma," Dr. Briefs spoke up as he passed the requested dish, "have you finished calibrating one of your ki beacons to work in the GR yet?"

Bulma nodded, grateful for the change in the topic of conversation. "It needs some fine tuning, but I think it should hold up to higher gravity levels just fine."

"How high did you last have the gravity, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs continued. "It needs to withstand whatever you'd like to train at."

"750 Gs," Vegeta responded, placing several chicken legs on his plate.

"Is that what you like to train at?"

Vegeta looked across the table. "It is what I am accustomed to, yes," he said politely. He would be civil to this man, for Bulma's sake.

Hiroshi sneered at him. "That's not what I heard," he contradicted. "I heard you ended up in some healing tank that Bulma had to build because you're constantly getting your ass kicked in that gravity chamber of yours."

Vegeta held his tongue and returned his attention to his food. Evidently Bulma had told the bastard about his last trip to the regeneration tank. He couldn't help but wonder what else she had told him.

"Is the chicken all right, Dear?"

Vegeta looked up. Mrs. Briefs had addressed him directly, since she was looking at him expectantly. "Yes, it's delicious as always, Bunny. I am thoroughly enjoying my meal."

"Oh, I'm so glad. There's plenty more in the oven keeping warm," Mrs. Briefs informed him. "I know how much you and Geta love to eat."

"Vegeta, back to the ki beacons," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "You're available to assist Bulma whenever she needs you, aren't you?"

Vegeta nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem. I look forward to participating in your testing, Bulma."

"Probably because you have nothing better to do, since you're too damn lazy to get a job like the rest of us," Hiroshi interjected rudely.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma shifted in her seat. Vegeta had to be stewing inside, as a vein at the side of his forehead had become pronounced and he had visibly tensed.

"That goes for both of you moochers," Hiroshi continued, ignoring Bulma's plea. "Kami damned bunch of circus freaks."

Geta set down his fork. "Why you..." Anya grabbed his arm, her eyes pleading with him not to intervene at the deliberate jab.

"That's it." Vegeta stood up and crossed his arms, his eyes flashing fire. The man could say what he wanted to about him, but when he got family involved, that crossed the line of how much he was willing to tolerate. "Bulma, we talk, now."

Bulma stood up slowly. "Vegeta, I don't think this is the best time-"

"Now!" Vegeta shouted, pointing to the kitchen. "I've had enough of this."

Little Vegeta began to whimper. "Ganpa?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's all right, Vegeta," Anya murmured, rubbing her son's back soothingly. "Bulma, please."

Bulma stalked into the kitchen, embarrassed. She waited for Vegeta to come in and immediately turned on him. "What the hell was that all about?" she hissed. "You have some nerve. Don't you ever do that again!"

Vegeta blinked at her and let out a snort. "I have nerve?" he asked incredulously. "That jackass at the table continually insulted not only me, but our son, Bulma. Our _son_, and you did nothing to prevent him from ruining everyone's meal," he retorted accusingly.

"Don't you talk about him that way, Vegeta. You just made a scene in there," Bulma countered angrily. She was effectively cornered, and hated the feeling. Vegeta had hurt her! She wasn't going to let him talk about the man who actually cared about how she felt that way.

"I don't believe what I'm hearing. Did you or did you not just witness his behavior, Bulma?" Vegeta countered back. "I did nothing to provoke such rudeness and made every attempt to be civil for your sake, Bulma. _Your_ sake."

"I also witnessed your behavior, Vegeta. You could have let me say something, but instead you overreacted. You acted like the jackass, and you frightened our grandson," Bulma snapped. "How do you expect me to defend you when you blow up like that? Talk about civil behavior."

Vegeta drew himself up straighter. "I confess, I have spent a lot of time with distasteful people in my lifetime, but it was never by choice," he challenged.

Bulma's eyes flashed angrily at him. "Screw you, Vegeta!" she screamed.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. If that was the way she wanted it, so be it. "As Her Highness requires," he replied smoothly. "Name the time and place and I will be pleased to accommodate you."

Her face reddened. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm nor do I find it very amusing, Vegeta," she snapped.

"What sarcasm?" Vegeta retorted, crossing his arms. "Are you informing me that you have relinquished your title? For I assure you that I have not rescinded it."

"Title?" Bulma blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Vegeta leaned in close, and curiosity prevented her from moving away. "Princess of Saiyans, of course," he whispered huskily in her ear. "When you accepted me into your bed and bore me a son, that is what you became, among other things." He ran a finger down her neck over the scar he'd given her, making her shiver. "We both know you were aware of that."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Vegeta," she whispered. His lips hovered dangerously close to her own. "I- I... What are you saying?" Her eyelids drooped as he lowered his face even closer to hers.

"I think you know exactly what I'm saying," Vegeta murmured. His arms encircled her waist and he drew her close, pressing the length of his body up against her. He brushed his lips across hers almost undetectably, but it was enough to make her gasp and shudder.

Just as she was expecting his mouth to cover hers in a passionate kiss, he suddenly released her from his grasp and left the kitchen. Astounded and confused, she leaned back against the counter for support and shook her head to clear it. _What the hell?_ Her cheeks flushed angrily; he was playing with her, toying with her emotions. She threw open the door and stormed after him.

"Just a minute there, Vegeta," she called after him. "I'm not finished with you!" She strode past the others, who were still seated at the table.

Vegeta turned to face her. "What is it, Woman?"

"You've got a lot of audacity asking me that," she retorted. "You know what I'm talking about. What the hell were you thinking in there?" Bulma jerked her thumb toward the kitchen.

Vegeta stood staring at her for a moment. He could see Hiroshi sneering at him and wished he could wipe the smirk off the arrogant bastard's face. Wordlessly, he took Bulma's arm and pulled her further away.

"Hey!" she objected. "What are you doing?"

"Take your filthy hands off of my girlfriend, you brainless gorilla," Hiroshi yelled around bites of his chicken, not bothering to get up from the table.

Vegeta ignored him and guided her back into the kitchen. After what had nearly happened in his room earlier he didn't want to do what he was about to do, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. "Look, Bulma. I didn't want it to come out this way, but what I have to say must be said. The legalities that existed on my planet obviously do not apply here," he began, trying to keep his voice calm. "I may not like that, but I understand it and I am forced to accept it.

"My first inclination a moment ago was to shove everything off of the counter and claim what is mine, but that is no longer the case when it comes to you. I'm such a jackass, as you so tenderly reminded me, that I threw away the only good thing I ever had in my life in an attempt to save my pride." He released her arm and looked away.

"Vegeta, I-"

"I spoke the truth to you when I said you are a distraction to me," he continued numbly. "But I lied when I said you were an _unwanted _and_ unneeded _distraction. All I could ever think about was you, of having you in my arms, hearing you gasp and sigh and moan my name as you bucked and writhed beneath me in pleasure, but I couldn't tell you that. I couldn't tell you that the mere thought of seeing your flirtatious little smile or of touching your body distracted me to the point that I could no longer train properly." He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "I could have simply told you that Earth's resources no longer adequately suited my needs, which you would have understood, but I foolishly reasoned that if you were angry at me when I left it would be easier on both of us. When I saw how much my words crushed you, again, my pride wouldn't allow me to take back what I said, and I hated myself, cursed myself, for it.

"Once I was in space, I knew that I had lost you, that there was no reason for you to accept me back, that you would hate me with every fiber of your being. The worst part was that I brought it upon myself, and not only did I lose you, but I realized that I effectively forfeited all rights to my son as well. I am grateful that you allow me that at least." He sighed again and continued before she could interject. "My training in space was useless. I had nothing to live for, and I didn't care if I died; in fact, I almost did. It was the thought, the tiniest _hope_ that I might, just might, have you one last time before I died that kept me going." He turned away from her, unable to hide the pain and self-loathing which shrouded his face.

Bulma stared at him in shock and surprise. It had taken every ounce of strength and courage he had to push back his pride and tell her what he just did. Now, he again struggled to keep himself emotionally in check. She reached out to place her hand on his arm. "Vegeta..."

He flinched at her touch as if she had burned him. "Don't," he gasped. "Please don't. I just... just leave me be!" He left through the back door for the GR before she could say another word and turned on the gravity simulator to its highest setting, welcoming the painful stresses he would soon be inflicting upon his body, ready to welcome anything at all to dull the ache in his heart and mind.

As she saw the red lights appear at the GR's windows, Bulma covered her face with her hands and cried. _He'll beat himself senseless again, I just know it!_ Why had it come to this? Why did every interaction with him have to be so ugly? She'd been angry, but she knew in her heart that he wasn't lying when he said he was sorry and didn't want to see him hurt himself. But that was exactly what he was doing, when she could have prevented it by simply talking to him weeks ago.

The kitchen door opened and Geta rushed over to her. "Mother! Mother, are you all right?" he exclaimed, taking her into his arms. "What did he say to you?"

Bulma heard the anger in her son's voice and looked up at him. He looked so much like his father. She broke away from him and fled out of the kitchen to her room.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs murmured in concern as her daughter ran by. "Maybe I should go check on her. She seems so sad."

Geta sat back down at the table wearily and shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "It's my experience that when Mother pulls away and runs like that, she wants to be left alone. If she wanted us to be around her, she would have stayed."

Hiroshi snorted and tossed down the chicken bone he'd just finished. "See, Bunny? I told you that _Saiyan_ is nothing but a lousy, no good piece of trash," he announced, inwardly pleased when Geta got back up to his feet angrily. "He's just ruining her life. Why do you keep that stupid loser around? You would be far better off kicking his sort of such a waste of space off to the curb."

Dr. Briefs was about to speak up when Anya beat him to it. She made a disgusted noise and glared daggers at Hiroshi. "It's obvious what your true meaning is, you sick, pathetic little excuse of a man," she snapped, holding her arm out in front of her red faced and enraged husband. "You have a lot of nerve insulting my husband and son right in front of them. Oh, and by the way, you disgusting waste of space," she repeated mockingly, "I don't like one bit that you're in a much better man's seat, so take your own advice and hit the curb before I throw your sorry ass out myself." She crossed her arms in a perfect Vegeta stance.

Geta stood behind her, smirking at him. The smirk widened into a smile, and he bared his fangs as he did so, laying his hand upon her shoulder so that it touched her bare neck. Watching his tiny slip of a wife throw Hiroshi out would be entertaining for sure.

"Hmph." Hiroshi rose from the table. "You people disgust me," he spat back. "Believe me when I say that Bulma shall hear of this."

"She most certainly will, I assure you of that. I think it would be best if you went now, Hiroshi. Have a pleasant evening."

All eyes turned to Mrs. Briefs to look at her in shock; all except for her husband's, that is, who knew his wife better than anyone else did and was not in the least bit surprised by her statement. Mrs. Briefs had always been quite fond of not only her grandsons but also of Vegeta, looking past his rough exterior to see the positive aspects of him. She had chosen to do the same the last time he had left her daughter and gone into space.

And oh, yes... Mrs. Briefs didn't like Hiroshi one iota, either. She only tolerated him because she hoped that her daughter would see the true Hiroshi sooner than later and, knowing that if she voiced her opinion it would only spite her stubborn daughter and drive her even deeper into the horrid man's clutches, wisely kept out of Bulma's affairs.

Not this time.

"Good night, Hiroshi," Dr. Briefs added, sipping his coffee as he went back to his meal.

Hiroshi knew he had no supporters and decided to take his leave. Saying nothing, he haughtily strode from the table, head held high.

"I don't like that uncouth young man," Mrs. Briefs commented. She gasped and placed her fingertips over her mouth. "Oh, my... what a dreadful thing to say about someone."

"Oh, I think you're forgiven this time, love," Dr. Briefs told his wife. "You said nothing out of place in the least."

* * *

Vegeta emerged from the GR late that night, his body tired, sore and screaming with pain. It was little more than he deserved. He'd hurt her, and she'd made her choice. After he'd explained things to her, she'd simply stared at him. There had been nothing more he could have said, so he had left the awkward situation.

He dropped his once nice clothes on the floor. They were completely destroyed from his training. It wasn't as though it mattered. She had been the one who had selected them. There was no reason to try to appear well groomed, not for her sake. If she would prefer to be with her rude, verbally abusive boyfriend, what was the point?

He showered quickly and collapsed onto his bed. Why, oh why had he left the way he had? Wanting her back as his mate had nothing to do with it. He _needed_ her more than he needed air to breathe. But she was no longer his. He sighed. This was useless. He needed to get some sleep, to rest his weary body and to rid his mind of the self-depreciating thoughts running through it.

But, despite having deprived himself for the past three days, sleep refused to come.

Vegeta got up from the bed and pulled on a pair of shorts. He had not finished his meal that night. Perhaps he would get a snack. He headed for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing seemed to appeal to him. Nothing in the entire kitchen did. Geta had mentioned making warm milk before when he couldn't sleep, but there was no milk left.

It was then that Vegeta recalled Dr. Briefs pouring himself what he referred to as a "nightcap" on several occasions before going to bed. He didn't know what was in the beverage, but knew he would recognize the bottle. He went to the mini bar in the den and located the bottle in question. Taking a glass, he poured a good amount of the brown liquid inside and sniffed it experimentally.

"Hmm. Smells like wood. This is not wine, is it?" he mused to himself. He liked wine and had sampled it on various planets he'd been on. Usually they were light in color or red. However, he had yet to sample one that was brown. He shrugged and took a good gulp of his drink.

The next thing he knew, Vegeta coughed and was gasping for breath. "What the hell is this stuff?" he rasped, holding the bottle up. This was no ordinary wine; he should have known that from the strong odor of it. He sat down on the couch with the glass and sniffed it again. It hadn't tasted bad to him. Perhaps he should just sip it more slowly. That was what the doctor had done. Small wonder, since it had burned on the way down unlike any wine he'd ever consumed. He took a much smaller sip and savored the flavor of it before swallowing. Ah yes, much better.

By the time he was done with the entire glass, Vegeta was feeling somewhat less melancholy and definitely sleepier. If one glass was good, two would be even better. He'd just pour himself another glass and head off to bed.

* * *

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta opened his eyes with a groan. Mrs. Briefs was leaning over him and shaking his shoulder. "Wha? What happened?" he asked groggily.

"You fell asleep on the couch, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told the bleary-eyed Saiyan. "No wonder you're groaning. That couch wasn't meant for sleeping on all night."

Ah. She thought his neck hurt. He'd just let her believe it, for he'd finished the entire bottle of the wine- or whatever it was- just a few hours prior, and was feeling a little queasy from it. His head ached as he sat up on the couch. "I guess that wasn't the best idea," he murmured.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Well, your breakfast is ready, anyway," she announced. "I'll dish you up a plate." She headed for the kitchen, a small frown on her face. She'd seen the glass. Evidently Vegeta had a nightcap before falling asleep on the couch, the poor dear. She hoped that he and Bulma would patch things up soon. Whiskey was such strong stuff. She set a plate and cup of coffee in front of him as he dragged himself up to the table. "Here you are, Dear."

"Thank you." Vegeta did his best not to cringe at the oppressively bright sunlight streaming in through the kitchen's windows. That wine had really knocked him out. He'd have to find out what it was in case he couldn't sleep again. He dug into his food. Hopefully food would make his stomach feel better.

"You're welcome. Oh! I forgot to tell you, Shatsu and Geta are going for their final tuxedo fittings today," Mrs. Briefs spoke up. "The tailor has your measurements on file, but I think it would be best if you went too, don't you think?"

Vegeta held in another groan. He hadn't gotten much sleep and his head was aching. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was to try on clothing. But this was for Anya and Geta's wedding, so he would do it. "I suppose so," he agreed. "When are they leaving?"

"In an hour," she responded. "You looked so tired, so I let you sleep as long as possible before I woke you up."

"Oh. Thanks." He took a gulp of coffee, recalling the almost buzz he'd gotten the time he'd consumed an entire pot of the blasted brown substance she'd gotten him hooked on. Perhaps it would help him wake up.

* * *

"Father? Are you all right?"

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, fine. I just didn't sleep well last night," he mumbled.

_Or the past few nights._ "All right, let's get going then," Dr. Briefs decided. "We don't want to be late to our appointment. You know, you could always catch a nap in the back seat on the way there, Vegeta," he suggested as he unencapsulated a vehicle.

"No, no, I'm fine," Vegeta repeated. The food had helped, as had the coffee and the shower he'd taken. He should have learned from Anya's example. How did humans find overindulgence in alcohol to be entertaining? He knew his Saiyan physiology had helped his body rid itself of the alcohol faster than any human's body could have, and yet he'd felt terrible when he'd woken up. He should not have consumed as much of whatever the hell that bottle contained as he had. Although, it couldn't be all _that_ bad since it had helped him to relax enough that he was able to sleep.

"You know, Gramps, since we've been making so many trips for fittings, maybe we should just leave one of Mother's beacons at Nobu's," Geta suggested as he got in the driver's seat. "That way, we could just teleport back and forth."

"That's a good idea, Geta," Dr. Briefs agreed. "The problem being remembering where they all are and which one is which..."

Vegeta tuned out the conversation and stared out the window as the car drove down the road. This day was going to suck, he just knew it.

* * *

"I don't understand." Nobu shook his head. Not a single piece of the tuxedo fit. "You must have been working out big time to bulk up this much."

"Uhm, yes," Vegeta muttered. "Strength training." There was no need to mention that it was his ascension to Super Saiyan that had increased his body mass. Strength training would do.

"Wow. Well, good thing I have time to redo it." Nobu grabbed his notes and a measuring tape. "All right, over here so I can measure you, then."

Geta watched as his father reluctantly obeyed and took the position Nobu directed. :Father?:

:Your grandfather knows of my ascension. I trust him not to tell your mother,: Vegeta responded. :He is a good man, and has been better to me than I deserve.:

:Father, please, let's not get into all of that now,: Geta told him. :Let's just do this and get back home. Anya and I have some things to take care of, and from the looks of you, you could use some more sleep.: He received the equivalent of a mental nod from his father.

:You're right, Son. In fact, there is something I would like to take care of myself today.:

* * *

Vegeta pulled a small card out of his drawer and examined it. He had observed various members of the family using the telephone and deduced that it couldn't be all that difficult. After all, he'd figured out how to drive a vehicle simply through observation, hadn't he? Although he was unable to read the text on the card, numbers were numbers and he could read those just fine.

Finding himself glad now that Mrs. Briefs had insisted that he would want his own phone line in his room, he picked the phone up from its cradle and pressed the buttons corresponding to the numbers on the card, hesitated, then pressed a green button which seemed to be the most prominent one on the phone. "Good, that's right," he murmured to himself as he heard noises indicating that he had indeed correctly dialed coming from the earpiece.

"Technical Dynamics Corporation, how may I direct your call?" came a woman's voice from the phone.

"I would like to speak to Dr. Ueda, please," Vegeta responded politely, figuring that he'd have a better chance of speaking to the doctor if he was nice to this woman.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Ueda is lecturing at Western Capital University today," the woman informed him. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"Sure." Vegeta supposed that was better than nothing; after all, if the man was an instructor as well as a scientist, an appointment would most likely be required to see him anyway. "Please tell him that Vegeta called. I met him at a gathering I attended with Bulma Briefs a few months back."

"All right," the woman responded. She would definitely make sure that this message was received, since anyone involved with the Briefs family or Capsule Corp was regarded as being of high importance. "What telephone number can you be reached at?"

Vegeta panicked slightly- he had no idea what his telephone number was. After all, he certainly did not call himself, and who did he know other than Kakarrot that would want to call him? "Oh... I feel rather foolish," he confessed. "This is a new telephone line, and I do not recall the number."

"That's all right. I have the number you're calling from on caller ID," the woman responded. "Would it be all right to return your call on this line?"

"Yes, that would be acceptable, thank you," Vegeta agreed. He was tempted to ask her to give him the number she saw, but didn't want to seem any more dim-witted than he probably already did.

"You're welcome, Sir. I'll let Dr. Ueda know that you called."

Vegeta hung up the phone and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked down at the business card again, wondering whether he'd just made the right decision. He could have gone to Dr. Briefs himself instead, but somehow he wasn't ready to divulge any more information on his trip to space than he already had. It wasn't that he didn't trust the older man, but he wasn't comfortable with Bulma knowing and he didn't need to burden him with another secret to keep from her. Besides, Bulma's asinine boyfriend had been right about one thing, and Vegeta didn't want any more of the Briefs' charity. Even though he had something to give in exchange, it would still be Dr. Briefs' money he was receiving, especially since to be honest, ownership of said item to exchange wasn't completely his, considering how he came to be in its possession. It was better off this way.

Vegeta returned the card to its place in the drawer and reclined back down on his bed against the pillows to watch television. Dr. Bill would be on soon. Perhaps he would watch that. It was better than those Jerry Leaper and Martha Homemaker shows.

* * *

Vegeta awoke with a start when the phone at his bedside rang. He didn't remember any of what had been on television, and must have been more exhausted than he thought to have fallen asleep so quickly. He turned off the noisy video device and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Vegeta, please?"

Vegeta recognized the voice at the other end of the line immediately. "Dr. Ueda, thank you for returning my call," he responded.

"No problem at all. So tell me, are you calling because you've decided that you'd like some employment with Technical Dynamics?" Dr. Ueda asked.

Vegeta chuckled. "No, not yet," he told him. "I would actually like to set up an appointment with you. I have something that I think you may find of interest."

"Oh? What is it?" Dr. Ueda asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Vegeta began slowly, "although I acquired it during a recent journey in space."

There was a pause on the line. "Can you meet me at the address on the card I gave you in half an hour?" Vegeta couldn't have known it, but Dr. Ueda was fascinated by space exploration and had even built his own telescope.

Vegeta's eyebrows went up in surprise. This was an important individual, and he was not even being required to set up a formal appointment. "I will be there. Thank you, Dr. Ueda."

"I'm looking forward to it. See you in half an hour." Dr. Ueda ended the call.

Vegeta set the phone back down in its cradle and drew in a deep breath. Here went nothing. The secret would be out, unless he could convince the doctor to keep things under wraps. He opened his nightstand drawer again and retrieved the business card and a capsule, which he shoved into his pocket. Searching out for his son's ki, he found him in the kitchen and teleported to him.

Geta looked up from the snack he was fixing. "Hey, Father. Would you like some sandwiches?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, but I have a favor to ask of you."

Geta put the sandwich he'd been making on a plate with the others and licked some mayonnaise from his fingers. "Shoot."

Vegeta handed him the business card. "Can you show me where this facility is?"

Geta looked at the card and nodded. "I know where that street is. The building shouldn't be that hard to find, especially if it's the one I think it is," he decided. "When do you want to go?"

"I need to go now," Vegeta told him. "I will explain on the way there." He paused. "You cannot tell anyone about this, especially not your mother."

Geta eyed his sandwiches longingly before putting some plastic wrap over the plate and putting everything in the refrigerator. "All right, let's go. We should probably drive so we don't weird anyone out."

Vegeta shrugged. "It's not like I've never flown into the city before. Besides, those damn paparazzi people even have pictures of it," he complained irritably.

"Exactly. And you just said you don't want anyone to know where you're going or what you're doing," Geta pointed out.

Vegeta's mouth opened to reply, then closed again. "You drive."

* * *

Geta pulled up in front of the building. "Here we are. Did you want me to wait for you?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, that's not necessary. I don't know how long this will take, and I can simply teleport myself home," he decided.

"All right. You know how to find me if you need me." Geta gave his father a two-fingered wave.

Vegeta nodded. "Son?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Geta nodded in return and drove away.

Vegeta looked up at the massive Technical Dynamics building and started up the stairs. Once inside, he approached a reception area where a young woman sat.

"Welcome to Technical Dynamics, may I help you?" the woman asked cheerfully.

"Yes, could you inform Dr. Ueda that Vegeta is here to see him?" Vegeta responded.

"Oh yes, he's expecting you. His office is on the fifteenth floor. Take that elevator over there up, then turn left when you step out and the office will be on the left. His assistant will let him know you've arrived," the woman instructed.

"Thank you." A few minutes later, Vegeta found himself standing in an expensively decorated office as he waited for Dr. Ueda's assistant to send him back. It reminded him somewhat of where Bulma worked. He held in a sigh. Everything came back to her. It was always her occupying his mind. And now, he'd ruined things still again with her. But, he had been able to finally explain things to her. Maybe, just maybe, she'd get past being angry with him and think about the things he'd confessed to her.

"Hello there Vegeta!" Dr. Ueda's voice interrupted his thoughts. The scientist shook his hand. "It's good to see you again. Please step into my office so we can speak privately." He ushered Vegeta into his personal office and shut the door. He sat down at his desk, indicating a chair for Vegeta in front of it. "So, what can I do for you?"

Vegeta sat down in the chair. "I... I suppose you have heard about Bulma and me," he murmured uncomfortably.

"Yes, I did," Dr. Ueda told him. He didn't know how that would relate to whatever it was he had to show him, but what else was there to say in response to such a statement?

"I ask that what I am about to show you remain confidential," Vegeta requested, furthering the other man's curiosity. "I am not ready to let Bulma or her family know of this yet."

Dr. Ueda nodded. "All right," he agreed. "What do you have for me?"

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out the capsule. "I took one of Dr. Briefs' ships into space for reasons unrelated to Capsule Corp not long ago," he began. "While I was there, I found what is inside this capsule." He held it up. "Where may it be opened? The contents would not exceed the area of your desk."

Dr. Ueda had many files on his desk and so he stood up to scan the office. "Here," he said, going over to a credenza against one wall and removing a few items that sat atop it. "You can open it here."

Vegeta went over to the credenza and opened the capsule, then stepped back. As expected, he heard a gasp from the scientist standing beside him.

"Is this... could this be Wethion stone?" Dr. Ueda asked incredulously. There was quite a bit of the rare stone on his credenza. If even one little piece of it was indeed genuine, Vegeta could expect to fetch quite a price for it.

"That is why I came to you," Vegeta countered. "I was hoping that you or someone with whom you are acquainted could verify for me whether it is indeed Wethion."

Dr. Ueda had been holding up a piece of the stone to more closely inspect it and set it back down to look at Vegeta. "You know, you could have had Bulma or her father do that for you," he said slowly. "Why didn't you? Why such secrecy?" To his surprise, Vegeta dropped his eyes.

"Because if this stone was still in space as it should be, you would not have heard about Bulma and me," Vegeta responded quietly. "Besides, I don't want any of Bulma's money."

There was no way Dr. Ueda could not have seen the slight trembling of the younger man's chin and his rapid blinking, and he realized with sudden clarity just what Vegeta meant- he had gone into space on bad terms with Bulma and regretted it. The stone meant nothing to him compared to the loss of their relationship, and he didn't want the Briefs thinking the value of the stone softened that loss. "Vegeta, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't intend to pour salt into your wound by my question."

Vegeta drew in a deep breath as he composed himself. "It's not your fault," he managed. He looked up at Dr. Ueda with eyes full of poorly masked pain. "But you see now why I cannot involve the Briefs or Capsule Corp in this just yet?"

"I understand," Dr. Ueda acknowledged. He couldn't claim to know- nor did he need to know- what exactly happened between Bulma and the man standing before him, but it was obvious that Vegeta was crushed by their split. Additionally, if Vegeta had gone into space for personal reasons as he insinuated but used a Capsule Corp ship to do so, he doubly understood now why Vegeta would keep the Wethion a secret for the time being. Revelation of its existence would turn his situation into an ever uglier mess. "Say, would you like to go to my lab and test one of these stones?"

Vegeta nodded. "We might as well," he agreed. He picked up a piece the size of an acorn. "Will this one do?"

"Oh, this one would be more than enough," Dr. Ueda assured him, selecting a pea-sized stone. "Let's encapsulate the rest of that, shall we?"

Once the rest of the stone was safely back inside the capsule, the two men made their way to Dr. Ueda's lab. "By the way, Dr. Ueda. If I truly have found Wethion, what do you suppose it is worth?"

Dr. Ueda let them inside and secured the door behind them. "This little piece in my hand? I would wager you could get, oh, at least fifteen to twenty million zeni for it. Don't lose that capsule in your pocket." He chuckled at the deer-in-the-headlights look his guest had on his face.

"Kami," Vegeta finally muttered. He had eleven more capsules at home that had even larger amounts of the stone in them. The prospective cumulative value of all twelve capsules was absolutely staggering.

"Well, let's find out what we have here." Dr. Ueda scraped a tiny bit from the stone and placed it into a Petri dish.

Vegeta watched in silence as the doctor conducted his testing. He couldn't help but feel anxious. He needed money if he was to no longer depend upon the Briefs, but he didn't want _this_ money. It just didn't feel right. Just like his ascension to Super Saiyan, the acquisition of this stone simply wasn't worth it.

Dr. Ueda set down his things and looked at Vegeta. "Well, congratulations Vegeta. You have indeed found Wethion stone."

"I see," Vegeta responded glumly.

Dr. Ueda wasn't sure how to react to Vegeta's response. On the one hand he understood the younger man's upset, but on the other, this was a fantastic discovery. Aside from the money, one mention of this would give him instant celebrity status in the scientific world. You'd think he'd at least be happy about not needing to rely on the Briefs' money any more. Conversely, Dr. Ueda hadn't lost the woman he cared about because of his work. He loved his wife dearly and the mere thought of it was upsetting. "Vegeta?" he ventured.

"I... I don't want it," Vegeta mumbled. "If I wasn't in need of revenue, I'd destroy it all." He heard the doctor's sharp intake of breath and looked up. "Whatever its value, it isn't worth the price I paid to acquire it, Dr. Ueda," he said, echoing his earlier sentiments to Dr. Briefs.

Dr. Ueda felt his heart twist in sympathy when he saw the glassiness in Vegeta's eyes as he struggled for the second time to maintain his composure. "I'm truly sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. "I wish I could be of assistance to you."

Vegeta managed a little smile. "You have been, thank you."

"You're welcome." Dr. Ueda considered his words carefully before speaking. "Vegeta, I have listened carefully to what you told me about your feelings regarding this Wethion," he began, "but still, I have to believe that you came to me because you would like to sell it and thought I might know of some interested parties. Am I correct in my assumption?"

Vegeta sighed and gave the doctor a little nod. "I do need some money," he concurred.

"All right. I have one colleague in particular who would love to get his hands on one of your stones. He does have a tiny fragment, but I believe his organization would pay handsomely for a larger piece," Dr. Ueda told him. "I'll contact him for you right away."

"Thank you. I am grateful for your assistance," Vegeta told him. "Incidentally, how large of a piece do you think your colleague would want?"

Dr. Ueda's eyebrow rose. "I would think that any of the pieces you have in your possession would satisfy him," he said slowly. "Just what are you saying, Vegeta?"

"I'm saying that there's more where this came from," he said confidentially, holding up the capsule again. "These are the tiny pieces."

Dr. Ueda's other eyebrow rose. The sale of one of the largest of the pieces he'd already seen could easily rival the gross national product of a small country. "Those are tiny? And you have more?" he stammered.

Amused by Dr. Ueda's reaction, Vegeta allowed a small smirk to play at the corner of his mouth. "I have a piece larger than your head," he informed the doctor, "and another one about the size of your chest, along with various sizes in between those and the one in your hand, as well."

"Great Kami," Dr. Ueda breathed. "Where are you keeping all of this? I do hope it's a secured location."

Vegeta shrugged. "In my nightstand drawer," he said in a manner so casual that it was unclear as to whether he was serious or not.

Dr. Ueda let out his breath. "Vegeta, I don't know if you're joking or serious, but may I suggest dividing your assets between safety deposit boxes at several different facilities? You know the expression, 'Never put all your eggs in one basket,' right?"

"No, I haven't heard that one yet, but I suppose it makes sense," Vegeta mused. He realized his error when the doctor again looked at him curiously. "Ah, I know what you're thinking. 'What planet does this guy come from?' Am I right?"

The doctor actually looked a little embarrassed. "It's a very common expression," he acknowledged.

"I surmised the same, by the expression on your face," Vegeta told him. "And so, you learn of another secret that I didn't intend to reveal today and ask that you keep. I don't need the media harassing Bulma about her freak half-breed alien son." He frowned irritably. "They harass her enough already as it is."

Vegeta was an alien! Dr. Ueda nodded slowly as he contained his reaction. "I understand." He paused, mulling his thoughts in his mind. "Vegeta, you should know that I am fascinated by space and space exploration. When you said you went to space, I was actually a little envious of you," he admitted. "But never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would ever become personally acquainted with a being from another world." He chuckled a little. "Forgive me, I tend to prattle on when I become excited by talk of my favorite pastime."

Vegeta chuckled in return. "You're not the only human I have found who does so," he teased. "So... who exactly did you have in mind for my Wethion?"

"Never fear, it's a reputable organization. My friend is a curator at the Western Capital Museum. They have quite the planetarium there, as well as a large exhibit with items relating to space," Dr. Ueda explained. "That is where the Wethion fragment I told you about is currently on display. Seeing as it is the largest museum in the world, I'm sure the they would be very interested in purchasing another larger stone to display, as they have the funds to do so. Additionally, such an acquisition would bring quite the draw of viewers to the museum."

Vegeta contemplated this. "It would be for a good cause," he spoke his thoughts aloud. "All right. If you can find out what size he is looking for, I will bring by several pieces for him to choose from. But I wish for the source of the stone to remain anonymous."

"Of course," Dr. Ueda agreed. "I may also be able to sell a piece to Western Capital University for you. It would be a much smaller piece than the museum would purchase, but I believe they would be interested nonetheless."

"If you can sell a piece to the museum, I will donate one to your university," Vegeta offered.

Dr. Ueda's face brightened. "Vegeta, how incredibly generous of you. The university would truly appreciate your contribution, I assure you."

Vegeta nodded. "It's not a problem at all."

"I'll contact you when I hear from my colleague at the museum. Oh!" Dr. Ueda added quickly, "I almost forgot to give you your stone back." He carefully picked up the small stone they had brought to the lab and held it out.

Vegeta dismissed his offering with a small wave of his hand. "Keep it. Consider it a finder's fee."

Dr. Ueda's eyes widened in surprise. "Are... are you sure about that?"

Vegeta smiled, but his face took on a somber look. "Positive."

Dr. Ueda understood Vegeta's unspoken meaning, _these stones mean nothing to me_. "Thank you, Vegeta. I wish you the best."

Vegeta nodded again, understanding the doctor's unspoken words this time. "I appreciate your time. Have a pleasant evening, Dr. Ueda."

"It was my pleasure, Vegeta. I'll show you out."

* * *

Vegeta walked along the street, not quite ready to go back home yet as he thought about what had just happened. "Hmph. Maybe now her stupid boyfriend can quit accusing me of being a moocher," he growled to himself. He crammed his hands into his coat pockets, the fingers of one hand coming into contact with some money Geta had given him. Perhaps he would find what he was looking for.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't know how long he'd been walking when he came across a small café and went inside. It was warm and seemed pleasant enough, so he sat down at one of the seats at the counter.

"Hello, what can I get for you, Sir?" a young woman behind the counter asked.

Vegeta removed his gloves and stuck them in his pocket. "Coffee with cream and sugar, please."

The woman set a cup down in front of him. "Anything else? A slice of pie, maybe?"

Pie did sound good. "Do you have apple?" Vegeta asked.

"Of course! Would you like it warmed?" the woman offered, playing up on his sudden obvious interest.

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta responded. He held the coffee cup in his hands while he waited, enjoying the gentle warmth it emitted.

The woman returned with the pie and set it down in front of him. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Vegeta took a bite of the pie. "It's very good." It was not as good as Mrs. Briefs' apple pie, but he was hungry and it tasted delicious just the same.

The woman beamed happily. "Thank you. It's our family recipe."

The woman turned away to greet some other customers who came in, but Vegeta noticed her sneaking looks at him a couple times as he ate. He couldn't help but wonder what she wanted. Did she find him suspicious, or threatening? Did he look pitifully cold and hungry? Perhaps she was the nurturing type, as Mrs. Briefs was.

"All set, or can I get you anything else?" she asked when he pushed his empty plate aside.

"No, I'm all set." Vegeta handed her some money. "But perhaps you could assist me. I would like to buy a bottle of wine for a friend. Do you know where I could purchase some nearby?"

"Oh, sure. Across the street and two blocks down there's a liquor store with a very nice selection. Just tell them what you're looking for and they'll help you find it," the woman told him.

"Thank you." Vegeta accepted his change and stuck it in his pocket.

"Have a nice day. Stay warm," the woman told him with a smile.

Vegeta nodded to her and went back out into the cold. It was snowing gently, big puffy flakes falling all around. He couldn't help but think of the day when they'd summoned the dragon and Bulma had come to the GR to get him. It had snowed like this that day, and she'd sat at the window to watch the snow. She'd wanted him to sit with her, but he'd refused. He sighed, again finding something to regret when it came to Bulma. Instead of a memory that he could have cherished forever, he'd chosen to train.

A man walked out of a store a few paces ahead of him with a case of beer. _This must be the liquor store the woman told me about._ Vegeta went inside and was met with aisle upon aisle, shelf upon shelf of bottles of all shape and color. That woman had spoken the truth about the selection; how would he ever find what he was looking for here?

A man with spiky orange hair and several piercings approached him. "Can I help you find something?"

"Yes, perhaps you can," Vegeta said, deciding to accept this man's assistance. If he worked here, he would know about the different types of alcohol. "I had an alcoholic beverage yesterday, but I don't know what it was."

"Ah, a booze newbie," the man commented. "Describe it to me."

Vegeta didn't know whether he should take offense to the man's comment but decided to ignore it. "It was brown in color and had a very strong odor. It did not smell like wine does. And it was harsh on my throat if I consumed it too rapidly."

"I'll bet it was whiskey," the man deduced. "Do you think you would recognize the bottle?"

Vegeta nodded. "Definitely."

"Well, here's what we've got. Take a look and see if you can spot it. If not, we'll try something else." The man steered him toward the correct shelf and went back to the front of the store.

It didn't take long before Vegeta spotted the same bottle. His eyes widened when he saw the cost; the doctor had expensive taste. It was a good thing he'd told Geta he hadn't known how much he would need and had managed to weasel a couple hundred zeni out of him.

"Hey, you found it," the man said with a smile as Vegeta approached the register. "Oh yeah, that's some _nice_ whiskey," he commented. "Your friend or whoever has good taste."

So, that's what it was, whiskey. He might have known, for it was then that Vegeta remembered the P'Anto whiskey he had consumed years ago. The taste reminded him somewhat of it but the P'Anto definitely hadn't burned the way this drink had. "Yes," he agreed.

Seeing Vegeta wasn't going to be any more forthcoming, the man completed his transaction and placed the bottle in a bag. "Have a good one."

"Thank you for your assistance," Vegeta responded as he headed back out into the cold with his prize.

* * *

Vegeta appeared in the front hall, where he hung his coat up and put away his shoes. Feeling out for Geta's ki, he once again found him in the kitchen and went there. "Still eating?" he asked.

Geta ignored his father's ribbing and put down the half eaten slice of leftover pizza in his hand. "How did it go?"

"Good. I spoke to Dr. Ueda, and he was very helpful." Vegeta dropped what remained of the money Geta had given him on the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Geta eyed the small pile of bills. There wasn't much left. "Big spender," he commented. "What did you buy that cost so much?"

Vegeta sat down at the table with his coffee and scowled. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay you back soon enough."

"Father, you know I don't care about the money. I'm only messing with you." Geta paused. "Does this mean it really was Wethion?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it's really Wethion." Vegeta sighed. "At least I won't need to mooch anymore, right?"

"Father..." Geta sat down across the table from him. "I know I'm not one to talk, but you can't let this ass get to you. It only helps his case when he tells Mother you're no good. And you're not a mooch."

"Then what would you call it?" Vegeta countered. "It's not like I make any monetary contribution to this household."

"Father, there are some things that are more important than money," Geta told him softly. "For instance, if it weren't for your generosity, I wouldn't have my wife and son with me. You contribute in plenty of ways that don't involve money."

"Yes, and look where it's gotten me," Vegeta continued bitterly. "Your mother hates me for the things I've done."

"Mother doesn't hate you," Geta contradicted him. "She's hurt and confused right now. Give her some more time. She talked with you, didn't she? Let her think it over for a while." He got up from the table. "You're an important member of this family, Father. Don't ever feel otherwise. Far more important than what's-his-face. Let her get over her hurt, and keep being a better man than he is. At least that won't be hard."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle. "We'll see what happens." He picked up his coffee and cradled it between his hands the same way he had at the café.

"Hey, what's this?" Geta held up two pieces of paper that had been mixed in with the money. "This paper is a receipt for whatever it was you bought, but this looks like a phone number." He gave his father a crooked grin. "Who's Rikae?"

"I don't know any Rikae," Vegeta responded with a frown.

"Well, she knows you. It says, 'Call me', a phone number, and a name, Rikae," Geta reported.

It suddenly struck Vegeta just who Rikae was- the woman from the café. "Oh! I know who that must be. I had a cup of coffee in a café while I was out. She must have put the paper with my change." He snorted, but a small blush spread across his cheeks. "I wondered why she kept looking at me. I figured she thought I must be some vagrant or something."

Geta laughed and pocketed the money. "That's great, Father. You little flirt," he accused, tossing the number down on the table.

Vegeta scowled and crumpled up the note, cramming it into his pocket to dispose of later. "I did not flirt with that woman," he growled. "This was entirely her doing."

Geta continued to laugh. "She must have thought you were hot," he continued. "Are you going to call her?"

"_No_, I'm not going to call her," Vegeta retorted. "Why would I call her?" The blush returned. He had deduced that 'hot' could be construed to mean sexually attractive in certain circumstances when applied to a member of the opposite sex. Had this woman actually found him sexually attractive? He scowled at his grinning son. "Oh, shut up."

Anya came into the kitchen to see her father-in-law pointedly ignoring her husband, who was grinning like a fool. "What's going on in here?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Father went to a café today, and the waitress hit on him," Geta reported. "Show her the note, Father."

"I said shut _up_."

Anya sat down at the table. "Seriously, Pops? Aww, that's nothing to be ashamed of. She probably just thought you were hot, that's all."

Vegeta got up from the table. "Would the two of you stop saying that?" he growled irritably.

"Geta, were you teasing him? Shame on you!" Anya hit her husband on the arm. "Pops, don't be embarrassed. You're an attractive man. If anything, you should be flattered."

The memory of the flirtatious women in Dr. Briefs' office came back to Vegeta's mind, and he sighed. "It's just..." He didn't want Rikae or any other woman. He only wanted Bulma.

"I'm sorry, Father. I was just messing with you, remember?" Geta apologized. "But Anya's right. That woman didn't mean any harm. Don't take it the wrong way."

"I know." Vegeta left the kitchen and headed for his room.

Anya frowned at her husband disapprovingly. "Geta, you should have known better," she scolded. "You know that he still loves Bulma."

"You're right, An. I should have just told him what the note meant and left it at that," Geta conceded.

She sighed. "He'll be all right. Just try to be a little more understanding, that's all."

* * *

Vegeta looked at the bottle in his hand. After training for the rest of the day, he'd come back inside after everyone was asleep. He'd poured about a third of the contents of the new bottle of whiskey into the old bottle using a funnel so that everything looked as it had before, and put the new bottle into Dr. Briefs' mini bar. He'd then hidden the old bottle in his closet, although he didn't know why he'd bothered. He couldn't sleep again that night, and had gotten it back out. A little sip wouldn't hurt. Just a little sip, and maybe he'd be able to sleep again.

He set the whiskey down with a growl. No. No, he would not do this. He'd felt awful enough this morning and didn't need a repeat performance tomorrow morning.

He got back into bed and stared at the ceiling. What was it going to take to repair what a pitiful mess he'd made of his life? Why was he continually going over and over this in his head? He was going to drive himself insane if this didn't stop.

* * *

Vegeta awoke the next day and rolled over to see the time. He sat up quickly and stared at the clock in surprise. It was almost noon; had he really slept in that late? He sighed when his gaze fell upon the empty whiskey bottle in the trash basket next to his bed. It had helped him to finally fall asleep, but he needed to find another way to do it, afraid that he would become dependent on the beverage to fall asleep. He'd become addicted to coffee rather easily, after all. Besides, the whiskey was expensive and he wouldn't be able to purchase any more until he sold one of his Wethion stones.

He stretched and yawned before getting out of the bed. At least he'd slept long enough this time that he didn't feel bad. However, it was simply a waste of his day to sleep until noon.

He scoffed at the thought. It wasn't as though he had anything better planned to do that day. He showered quickly and went down to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

Mrs. Briefs was in the kitchen making lunch. "Good morning, Dear!" she sang as he entered the kitchen. "Or more accurately, good afternoon."

Vegeta let out a little chuckle. "Good afternoon, Bunny." He went over to her to see what she was preparing and reached out to swipe a piece of the ham she was using to make sandwiches.

"Stop that, you naughty young man," Mrs. Briefs scolded, swatting at his hands. "Why don't you go sit down at the table? Lunch will be ready in a few minutes." She picked up her wooden spoon and waggled it at him threateningly when he stole a pickle spear. "Don't make me use this on you."

He couldn't help but laugh at her mock scolding. "Sorry, Bunny," he told her unrepentantly. "I'm just so hungry and that looks so good that I couldn't wait."

She giggled and poured a cup of coffee, setting it down in front of him as he sat down at the table. He was just so cute that she couldn't be irritated at him. "Small wonder. You slept right through breakfast today, you poor dear." She was glad that Vegeta seemed to finally be catching up on some much needed sleep.

Vegeta began dumping a load of creamer and sugar into his coffee. "I was really tired, I guess."

"I figured you were. You hardly ever sleep in." Mrs. Briefs paused before saying what was really on her mind. "Vegeta, if you're available today, I think that Bulma wanted to run those tests that Shatsu was talking about the other night at dinner," she informed him. "She won't be coming back for lunch, but she mentioned something about the tests before she left for work today."

Vegeta took a drink of his coffee to cover up his trepidation. Would this turn into another ugly confrontation? Or would she be willing to let what had happened at dinner go? "Did she want me to meet her at the lab?"

"I think so," Mrs. Briefs confirmed. "You could call her on her cell phone if you want."

Vegeta shook his head. There was no sense in putting it off. "No, I think I'll just go over there after lunch," he decided.

* * *

Vegeta entered the lab. No one was in sight, but he could hear voices coming from Dr. Briefs' portion of the lab. "Hello?"

"Back here, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs called out.

He entered the room, disappointed to confirm that Hiroshi was also present. Why did the slimeball always have to be around? "You needed me?"

Bulma nodded. "I'd like you to do the ki test in this booth that Daddy showed you earlier," she told him.

Vegeta nodded. "All right." He stepped into the booth and waited patiently for her directions.

Bulma looked a little surprised but secured the booth and the small room it was inside. "Can you hear me, Vegeta?" her voice came into the booth.

He nodded and gave her a thumbs up. "Ready," his lips moved.

Bulma made a mental note to make the communication system two way and powered on the booth. "Drop your ki all the way down, then go ahead and power up as high as you can," she instructed.

Dr. Briefs caught a brief glance from the younger man as he powered up. It had been an incredible sight to behold, but he remembered his promise not to mention anything of Vegeta's ascension to his daughter. When Vegeta was ready, he'd tell her. "Slow and steady, Vegeta," he added in reminder.

Bulma's eyes widened as Vegeta's body continued to kick out an incredible amount of ki. "Daddy, look at this," she whispered. "His power levels are rising just like when I measured Geta's, only he's not quite there."

"The Saiyans' abilities are quite impressive," Dr. Briefs agreed, finding himself a little disappointed that he wouldn't be seeing Vegeta in all his Super Saiyan glory again. It was then that he realized that he truly wanted to see the young man succeed, that he was actually as proud of his accomplishment as he would have been had Vegeta been his own son.

"C'mon, Vegeta," Bulma murmured to herself. "Just a little more..." He'd obviously become stronger while in space, and she wanted to see just how far he could go.

Hiroshi scowled as Bulma watched Vegeta's progress with obvious fascination. This did not set well with him. "What do you think this test is going to prove?" he asked irritably.

Her attention successfully diverted, Bulma turned to her boyfriend. "It will measure his ki levels and record all of the data in the computer," she explained. "That kind of information can help us make better training equipment, and possibly aid in the development of other types of machinery."

"Hmph. Well, if it'll help you with something other than training equipment, at least it's not a complete waste of time and money," he noted dryly.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma sighed. He was always so hostile toward Vegeta. Could it be that he felt threatened by him?

"All right, Vegeta. You can power down again," Dr. Briefs announced when it became evident that his ki level had plateaued. "Very impressive, thank you."

Bulma nearly gasped in surprise when Vegeta's ki abruptly stopped emanating from him rather than gradually ebbing. He looked none the worse for wear as if he'd simply been standing there the whole time. "Everything all right?" she asked.

Vegeta nodded and made a gesture that indicated that she should open the door. He'd held back just enough to not trigger the transformation and wondered if she would be able to tell when she analyzed the data. He couldn't worry about that, he decided as he left the small room.

"Thanks, Vegeta. This will help a lot with my research," Bulma commented.

So. It seemed as though she did intend to let the ugly events at dinner slide, at least for the time being. "You're welcome," Vegeta told her. "Let me know if I can be of further assistance."

"Actually, Vegeta, I believe that Bulma has a beacon ready for use in the GR," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "We'd like for you and Geta to test it before a permanent one is installed."

Vegeta found himself a little curious as to how she had devised the beacon. "Could I see the plans?"

"Why? They're fine," Bulma asked rather defensively. "I spent a lot of time on them."

"He must not trust you, Babe," Hiroshi spoke up. "Or perhaps he thinks he could do a better job than you. After all, you're only a genius with a PhD in mechanical sciences. He can hardly scratch his ass on his own, much less critique your invention."

Vegeta scowled at the meddling man sneering at him. "I said no such thing," he retorted. "I was merely interested in how she managed to modify the device for use in high gravity situations, and I'd like to know how what it is that I'm testing works."

"I'll show you the schematics, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs offered. "You don't mind, do you Bulma?"

Bulma held in an offended huff. "No, go right ahead," she replied crisply. "I insist."

Vegeta followed the Briefs as they headed for her portion of the lab. "Here we are," Dr. Briefs said, unrolling a set of plans that had been on her work desk.

"Thank you." Vegeta examined the plans with interest. "If I am looking at this correctly, it appears that the device will erect a ki shield capable of protecting itself in proportion to the level of gravity, correct?"

"That's the idea," Bulma confirmed. "The beacon will be able to automatically adjust as you increase or decrease the gravity so you won't need to worry about it. If it needs to replenish its energy banks, it can simply draw from residual ki particles in the room."

Vegeta digested this as he looked at the plans. Somehow, something just didn't feel right. "Are you sure about this?"

Bulma frowned; was he second-guessing her design as Hiroshi had suggested? "What's wrong with it?"

"As it was pointed out to me, I'm no scientist, but I have to wonder if this design could create too strong of an energy loop," Vegeta commented in as non-threatening of a tone as possible. "What would happen if it drew in too much ki too quickly? It would have to displace it somehow, and I don't see a shut-off safety for either the beacon or the room."

"You're right, you aren't a scientist," Bulma snapped, snatching her plans back. "Don't worry, I'll ask Geta to test this for me. You needn't bother yourself."

Vegeta frowned, offended that she had dismissed him so abruptly. "No, I will test it myself. I insist," he retorted, echoing her earlier sarcasm. "When I am proven incorrect, I will apologize."

"Fine, sounds good to me," Bulma agreed irritably. "Take it and go. We'll monitor you from in here."

Vegeta picked up the ki beacon and left without another word, hatred for the man sneering at him pouring off of him in waves. Kami, but he just itched to bust that ugly mug of his. But he knew that Bulma would never forgive him and so he remained silent.

He couldn't help but feel apprehension as he exited the building and flew out to the GR. He didn't care if he was wrong; in fact, he hoped he was. But he had the gut feeling that the device just wouldn't work in the way it was intended. :Geta?:

:Hey, Father. What's up?: came his son's response a few seconds later.

:I need you to do me a favor.:

:Shoot.:

Vegeta quickly relayed the argument that had taken place in the lab. :So you see what I'm getting at?:

Geta sighed mentally. :Yes. Would you like me to randomly wander into the lab and watch with the others?:

:I think it would be wise, just in case,: Vegeta agreed. :As much as I trust and value your mother's expertise, I just don't feel completely comfortable with this device.:

:All right. I'll be right over.:

:Thank you.:

:No problem,: Geta assured him. :I'll jump in should anything weird happen.

Vegeta gave him a mental nod. :Son?: he ventured a couple seconds later.

:Yes?:

:I'm proud of you,: came the somewhat awkward response. :I'm sorry I never told you before now.:

Geta's heart softened at his father's words. :Thank you, Father. I'm proud of you, too. Don't ever give up.:

:I won't.: The mental connection was severed.

Geta teleported himself to the lab. "Hey, what's up?" he asked as he strolled up behind the others, who were watching a monitor.

"Hello there, Geta," Dr. Briefs greeted his grandson. "Your father is testing the ki beacon meant for the GR. Would you like to watch with us?"

"Absolutely. I'd like to see Mother's invention in action." He nodded to the disinterested man standing a few feet away. "Good afternoon, Hiroshi."

Hiroshi said nothing in response and hardly offered a sideways glance.

"Whatever." Geta redirected his attention to the monitor. "Where's Father?" All he could see was the empty GR with the ki beacon against the wall near the doorway to the living quarters.

"Vegeta just set it down and left- oh. There he is," Bulma corrected herself as Vegeta strolled back into the room, clad in a pair of his black training shorts and athletic shoes. He switched the beacon on and set it on the floor next to the control panel. His lips moved, but no sound was heard.

"We can't hear you, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs spoke up.

Vegeta adjusted a setting on the panel and looked up at the camera. "Can you hear me now?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs verified.

"Good!" Vegeta responded, in the same manner as the nerdy man on the portable telephone commercials he couldn't stand did. He was pleased, however, when the doctor's response was a hearty laugh.

"Ah, Vegeta... you crack me up." Dr. Briefs chuckled. It was refreshing when the boy showed a sense of humor, especially considering what had just happened between him and Bulma. "What were you saying?"

"I said, I'll put it here since you'll be installing it into the control panel, correct?" Vegeta repeated.

"That's the plan," Bulma confirmed.

"All right, let's get started. We'll be monitoring not only what you do, but also the levels of gravity and ki in the room, both your ki and the beacon's in response to the change of gravity levels," Dr. Briefs advised.

Vegeta nodded. "Understood." He looked up at the large video image from the lab being projected into the GR. "Son, if there's anything you think should be tested, speak up."

"Will do, Father," Geta responded.

"We're going to shut down the video feed from our end so you aren't distracted by us," Dr. Briefs informed him. "We'll still be able to send you audio if needed."

"All right." Vegeta watched as the image disappeared and held back his sigh. This was it. "I'm going to start at low gravity levels. Computer, set gravity at fifty Gs and randomly fluctuate between fifty and 300 Gs," he commanded. He felt the familiar tug of gravity as the room powered on and his body emitted a low-level ki field in response.

The small group in the lab watched as Vegeta popped a small ki ball next to the beacon. "The beacon reacted as it should. That's good," Dr. Briefs commented as the energy level of the beacon's shield temporarily increased in response. The gravity level shifted higher, and this time the shield stayed raised.

"Want me to try blasting it?" Vegeta joked, but hid the fact that he was only half kidding.

"You'd better not break that on purpose, Vegeta," Bulma retorted.

"Mother, what purpose would the beacon serve if it couldn't hold up to a stray ki blast?" Geta offered. "It shields itself, doesn't it? If it can't react in time, we'll need to make some adjustments, that's all."

Bulma pursed her lips. Vegeta was just trying to prove her wrong and she didn't like it one bit. "Fine, send a blast its way and you'll see what it does."

Vegeta shrugged and sent a small ki blast toward the beacon, raising an eyebrow when the shield cleanly absorbed the blast. "Nice. Maybe I should fall on it or smash a bot on it-"

"Vegeta." Bulma did not sound amused.

"Okay, all right." Vegeta smirked at the camera. "Computer, activate basic training exercise utilizing two bots," he commanded.

The group watched as he battled with his metallic foes. Bulma couldn't help but feel affected while watching him. He was so lithe, his movements so graceful. The way his muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved made her feel warm as her mind recalled being held in his arms against that muscular body. She blinked, realizing where her thoughts had been heading as she stood right next to her son. Had he noticed?

Her attention was redirected to Vegeta's training when one of the bots exploded from the backlash of a ki blast. The second bot fired a ki blast of its own at him, which he managed to deflect. The ball of energy headed straight for the ki beacon, its ki shield rippling as it absorbed the blast.

"What the..." Vegeta frowned. "Something doesn't feel right," he muttered.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs asked. "What doesn't feel right?"

"I feel strange, like my skin is tingling. Almost as if Anya were borrowing from me, but all over," Vegeta struggled to explain. He shuddered, not liking the goose-pimply sensation on his flesh. His eyes flicked to the beacon, and without warning, he shot a blast at it.

"Vegeta, what are you-" Bulma's indignant retort was interrupted by Vegeta's surprised shout of pain.

"What happened?" Geta demanded. "Father, are you all right?"

"Oh dear," Dr. Briefs murmured. "There was another fluctuation of the gravity, and the beacon literally sucked the ki in the blast right from his body. It seems that Vegeta is a more valuable source of energy than the residual ki energy in the room."

Bulma shivered, a creepy feeling settling over her that Vegeta just might have been right on this one. "Like he was a battery," she muttered. "Vegeta, shut down the program and come back inside," she told him.

"Computer, terminate all programs." Vegeta frowned when the GR did not respond and went over to the control panel, his body feeling like a lead weight as he trudged across the room. "I... I can't," he stammered, backing away. "The computer isn't responding and the beacon has created too big of a ki shield. It's blocking access to the control panel." He reached out to touch it, drawing away quickly when he felt the sizzle of ki burn his hand. "It's too strong."

"Look," Geta murmured. "His hair is drooping. His ki isn't holding it up against the gravity."

Dr. Briefs leaned in. "You're right, it is," he exclaimed. "Vegeta, you need to get out of there," he said worriedly. This was a bad sign. If Vegeta couldn't even keep his hair from flattening in what was currently 125 Gs, his ki had to be greatly diminished.

"The room is ki shielded from the inside, Daddy," Bulma told him nervously. "Nothing in, nothing out while the beacon is on. It's one of the modifications we made, remember?"

"Can you teleport out, Father?" Geta suggested hopefully.

"No, I can't lock on anyone's ki," Vegeta told him. "Even if the room wasn't shielded, I don't have enough ki left to blast my way out." The gravity level shifted significantly higher, and Vegeta suddenly found himself on his hands and knees, unable to keep standing upright.

"Father!" Geta exclaimed. "Father, I'm coming to get you!" He raced for the door.

"Daddy, this is my fault."

"What did you say, Bulma?" Dr. Briefs asked, unable to tear his eyes from the monitor.

"This is my fault," she whispered. "I should have listened to what he had to say." She gasped when Vegeta dropped completely down, spread-eagled and flat on the floor as the gravity shot up higher.

* * *

Vegeta hit the floor, grunting as the air whooshed from his lungs. The GR wasn't programmed to shut down remotely, so if Geta didn't get him out, he'd be a goner in minutes as he had no breath left to hold and the gravity was crushing down on him like an insect under a boot. His eyes opened wide when he saw the object looming above him.

He'd forgotten about the second bot, and its laser was homing in on him.

* * *

"Oh, Kami," Bulma whimpered when the situation became apparent. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the look in Vegeta's eyes, one she'd never seen before.

_Fear._

"Hurry, Geta," Dr. Briefs muttered, wringing his hands nervously. Relief rushed over him as an explosion ripped into the GR from the outside, rending a hole in its side and disrupting the ki shield. Geta was barely managing to maintain a weak shield of his own as he made his way through what now felt like intense gravity and rushed over just in time to step in front of the laser blast meant for his father. It was evident that his own ki reserves were rapidly waning as he struggled to drag Vegeta out of the room and remain upright himself. The doctor let out an excited yell as the two Saiyans disappeared through the hole in the GR.

Bulma's shoulders slumped and the tears she'd been holding in streamed down her cheeks. "Oh, thank Kami," she sobbed.

Hiroshi had been scowling the entire time, starting when his girlfriend had been practically drooling at the stupid monkey without even realizing it, up to her tears over her concern for him. There was no sense in denying it- she still had feelings for her ex. He truly didn't care about that; after all, he certainly didn't love her. But he could still make her feel guilty about it when the opportunity presented itself. "What's the problem, Bulma?" he asked, irritably. "No one died." She didn't hear him mutter "pity" under his breath.

Bulma turned to face him. "Hiroshi, how can you be so uncaring?" she exclaimed. "He did this for me despite his reservations. I didn't listen, and he nearly died because of it. What if he does have serious injuries? Geta could have gotten hurt in there too. How would you feel if you put someone else's life in danger?"

Hiroshi took her into his arms. "Bulma, Bulma. Of course I'd never want to be the cause of another human being's death, or even see them suffer. You know that," he told her in a soothing voice.

She pulled away enough to look up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confused contemplation as his words hit her. Did he mean another person in general, or had he carefully phrased his comment to exclude anyone who wasn't human? She was just about to say something when Geta burst into the lab.

"Prep the tank!" he shouted, sounding quite winded as he sat his father down onto the nearest chair. "Breathe, Father. Come on, breathe."

"Is he breathing at all?" Dr. Briefs asked as he rushed over.

"Just tiny shallow gasps," Geta reported. "C'mon, Father."

"That's it, Vegeta. Little breaths. You can do it," Dr. Briefs coaxed.

Bulma stepped away from Hiroshi. "What can I do?" she asked shakily.

"Prep the tank for now," Dr. Briefs instructed. "Oh! Oh dear," he exclaimed.

Bulma watched in horror as Vegeta began to convulse and blood trickled from his mouth and nose. "Daddy, do you think his lungs must be filling with blood?"

"It's entirely possible," the doctor agreed. Vegeta's body was reacting as someone drowning would.

"I've got to help, Hiroshi," Bulma called out. "I'll call you, all right?" She rushed over to the medical portion of the labs.

Hiroshi scowled. Hopefully the worthless monkey would die. Then he'd be rid of him. His eyes met Vegeta's and he sneered before turning on his heel and leaving the lab. It was better that he left anyway, for a couple doctors rushed past him to help, having been alerted by staff who saw Vegeta being carried in. If they were successful, he'd have to think of another way to rid himself of Bulma's ex. These Saiyan freaks were as hard to kill as cockroaches.

* * *

"Come on, I know you have one," Bulma demanded. "You'd better cough it up before I get mad."

"I'd do it if I were you, Korin," Yajirobe advised the catlike creature cringing away from Bulma. "I heard she almost beat up Piccolo, and that was when she was pregnant, too."

"I'm really sorry, Bulma, but I honestly don't have any senzu beans right now," Korin reluctantly told her. He didn't really care for Vegeta, but he felt badly for Bulma. Besides, if Vegeta did die, she'd skin him for a new handbag. "I have my plants in a controlled environment, but none of them have beans yet, I swear. I'm sorry."

Bulma stepped back with a sigh. She'd left when Vegeta began choking up blood as they were trying to put him in the tank. Besides his body being bruised and battered, he had burns on his arms and chest that looked very similar to radiation burns, her father assuming that Vegeta had sustained them when the ki beacon had literally forcibly sucked the ki from his body. She'd never felt so badly about any damage she'd caused in her life, because this mistake just might cause another person his life. But this wasn't just any person, her mind reminded her. This was Vegeta, father of her son and... and...

Oh, damn it to hell. She knew she still had feelings for him. She knew now that she always would. He was in her blood, a part of her very essence now. The bite mark on her neck tingled, and she reached up absently to scratch it.

"I'm sorry, Korin," Bulma apologized. "I shouldn't have treated you like that."

"You're worried for someone you care about. I can understand that," Korin responded, a morbid feeling of satisfaction coming over him when the blue-haired woman's cheeks flushed pink.

"Uhm, yeah," Bulma mumbled in response.

"Listen, check back with me in a couple weeks. I may be able to get you a bean or two to hang onto for emergencies, okay?" Korin offered, relieved when Bulma nodded slowly.

"Hey, Bulma," Yajirobe spoke up. "Vegeta's a tough guy and probably went through worse in all those battles he's been in, right? He'll be fine."

Bulma managed a shaky smile. "Thanks," she murmured. "I guess I should go."

The tower's two inhabitants watched her leave in her plane. "Well, that was more excitement than I'd planned for today," Korin remarked dryly.

"Yeah," Yajirobe agreed. "I thought she was going to make a pair of fuzzy slippers outta you for a minute there."

"Thank you for your unnecessary and unsolicited commentary," Korin said irritably.

Yajirobe knew not to push the cat further and wisely dropped the subject. "Did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"She's still hot on him."

"You think?"

"Oh yeah. Big time. He'll be right back in the saddle before you know it, trust me. I'd so take a beating if it meant I could hit that." Yajirobe sighed. Life could be so unfair to short, fat, sweaty sort-of warriors. "Lucky bastard."

* * *

Vegeta opened his eyes and gasped in surprise. The last thing he remembered was fighting for breath as he choked up the blood in his lungs before they'd put him in the regeneration tank, as he had when Frieza had beaten the hell out of him before he died. He was as disoriented as he'd been when he'd woken up in that shallow grave on Namek, but this was his room, he realized with sudden clarity. He was alive, he could breathe, and he felt infinitely better than when he'd passed out in the tank, although he was dead tired physically. He pulled off the oxygen mask on his face and turned his head to the side, astonished to see Bulma asleep with her head on his desk. She'd stayed with him? He was tempted to reach out and run his fingers through her silky blue hair, if only to prove to himself that she really was there.

Just as their son had done when Vegeta had sat with him on the couch that first time, Bulma's eyes slowly opened. "Hey," she said sleepily, wincing at the crick in her neck as she sat up in her chair. "You're awake." She placed a hand on his forehead. He felt warm as he always did, but not hot as he had earlier. "How do you feel?"

Vegeta thought he heard the tiniest catch in her voice. "Tired," he mumbled.

"I'm sure you will for a while. I mean, you..." Bulma choked back a sob. "I'm sorry, Vegeta, so sorry," she managed. "I should have listened to you instead of being so stubborn."

Vegeta reached up to catch a tear rolling down her cheek. "Shh, don't cry," he whispered. Gods, she was beautiful.

"How can I not cry?" Bulma objected, crying even harder now. "I was horrible to you, and you could have been killed."

"You aren't horrible. I know all about horrible people, remember?" His hand cupped her cheek. "And I'm still here. I've been through worse, trust me." Visions of horrific beatings and even worse mistreatments he'd suffered at both the hands of Frieza and his minions flashed through his brain, but he quickly squashed them. He needed to focus on the princess before him right now, not on the indignities of his past.

"I still feel terrible, Vegeta." Bulma sniffled and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "What can I do for you?"

Here presented itself a golden opportunity, one he would not pass up. "You could always kiss and make it feel better," Vegeta suggested innocently, recalling usage of the phrase when one of the women in the house would kiss an "owie" sustained by one of the boys. Employing the words along with the action always seemed to magically remove any sign of pain or trauma.

She blinked at him, then laughed. The slick little devil was doing a rather poor job of concealing a smirk. "I meant a sandwich or cool washcloth or something like that, but I suppose I could oblige you." She leaned down and placed a chaste little kiss on his forehead.

Vegeta let out an exasperated huff and shifted beneath the covers. "Not exactly what I had in mind either, but I'll take it," he grumbled.

Bulma chuckled again. He was cute when he pouted. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?" She turned to leave but paused, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. "Be right back."

A small smile played at Vegeta's lips as the bedroom door closed behind her. That was all he could have asked for.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: I am excited to get to this part of the story, because the next chapter marks an important turning point. Those of you who really think about it at the end of this chapter should guess what it is. Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from all of you. :)

Thanks once again to my husband for reading this over for me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

"Well Vegeta, here you are. Payment in full." Dr. Ueda handed Vegeta a bank receipt. "I had the money deposited into the account you specified."

"Thank you, Dr. Ueda." Vegeta took the paper the scientist was holding out to him. "I appreciate all of... your..." Vegeta stopped mid-sentence as he stared blankly at the receipt. _How_ many zeroes were there? His brain was too shocked to count them. "I..."

Dr. Ueda grinned at the slack-jawed young man's expression. "Nice, isn't it? Most people can't fathom having even a fraction of what those three stones you sold brought in."

"Yeah." Vegeta looked up from the paper. "Three?"

"Yes, they got grants to purchase three nice-sized stones to place in different museums," Dr. Ueda explained. "And, I do believe that a governmental space station is interested in one of your stones, as well as a wealthy private collector with interests similar to my own." He leaned in. "Even if neither opportunity pans out, you are a _very_ rich individual, young man."

Vegeta looked down at the paper again. Damn, that was a crapload of money. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair.

Dr. Ueda laughed. "That about sums it up, yes." He slapped Vegeta's arm good-naturedly. "Oh, good strong arm there. Well, congratulations Vegeta. I'm very pleased for you, and I wish you the best."

Vegeta smiled. "Thank you," he responded sincerely. "And now, I will uphold my end of the bargain." He opened the capsule containing the stones remaining from what the museum had chosen from and selected a good-sized piece. "For your university."

"Thank you very much, Vegeta." The scientist shook Vegeta's hand vigorously. "I'll let you know about the other investors. Meanwhile, if there is anything at all I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Actually, there _is_ something you can help me with," Vegeta responded. "I need a story I can fall back on when someone asks just where I got any money. Got an odd job for me? Anything at all will do."

Dr. Ueda laughed again. "I see you've thought this one through." He mulled Vegeta's request over. The boy did seem rather strong. "Hmm. How much can you lift?"

"How much do you need me to lift?" Vegeta countered.

* * *

"Hey, I've been looking for you." Bulma walked over to Vegeta as he kicked off his shoes. "Where'd you go off to?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Oh, just out for a bit," he said obscurely, hanging his coat in the coat closet. "Why, is something the matter?"

"No, I wanted to go over a couple wedding details with you." Bulma paused. "Come on, indulge me. I heard it through the grapevine that a few women have given you their phone numbers while you're out."

What was that emotion he heard in her voice? "Yes, that's true," he acknowledged. "But I haven't called any of those women."

"Oh." Bulma relaxed somewhat. "Why not?"

Vegeta was starting to become a little irritated by her behavior; after all, she had shown no intentions of disposing of her idiotic boyfriend and renewing her relationship with him. What did she care if he did decide to contact a woman who had shown an interest in him? "I didn't feel inclined to, Bulma. What does it matter?"

Bulma was taken aback by his question. "Hey, don't get defensive. I just..." She sighed. "Whether you believe it or not, Vegeta, I do care about your happiness. I thought maybe you were dating someone."

Now, _that_ was a little sadness in her voice. He knew her too well to miss it. "No, I haven't moved on, if that's what you're hinting at," Vegeta said softly. He reached up to run the sides of his fingers along her cheek. "I doubt I ever could."

Bulma felt tears spring to her eyes at the longing look in his. "Vegeta, I..." She drew in a ragged breath. Why was she acting this way, like a hormonal schoolgirl with a crush on the hot school jock? She knew in the back of her mind that his looks weren't the true reason for what she was feeling, but refused to acknowledge the thought.

Vegeta frowned. "Don't cry, Bulma. I don't want to be the cause of any more of your tears." His hand dropped from her cheek.

Bulma sniffled. She was actually selfishly relieved that he wasn't seeing anyone and felt guilty about it. "I know."

_What does she mean by that?_ Vegeta couldn't help but wonder. She had to know how remorseful he was that he hurt her and that the loss of her love pained him more deeply than anything else ever had or could. How much did it matter to her? He nodded. "All right."

The two just stood there looking at each other for a long moment. "I uhm, should go over the wedding details with you," Bulma stammered after regaining her composure. His deep dark eyes had always been a weakness of hers, one which had become even worse whenever he looked at her as he just had.

"We should have some time before dinner, right?" he suggested.

"I think so," she told him, glad that he'd agreed without words to change the subject. It had been harder for her to talk to him than she'd thought it would be, and only proved the accusation her traitorous mind wouldn't stop plaguing her conscience about. "Let's sit in the kitchen."

Vegeta was silent until they got to the kitchen. "If you must know, I've gone to see Dr. Ueda a couple times," he told her as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Want some?"

"Sure, thanks." Bulma was looking at him in surprise. "Why would you go see Dr. Ueda of all people?"

Vegeta placed their coffees on the table and sat down across from her. "He keeps trying to offer me employment," he told her, pushing a container of creamer over to her. "He thinks that I have potential or some other such nonsense." He picked up the sugar and poured some into his coffee.

He'd brought hazelnut creamer. It was her favorite, and he knew that. "Did you accept?" Bulma asked. She found herself extremely curious about where this might be leading.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, not yet," he said, taking a drink of his coffee. "But I might, if I need additional income. I did a few odd jobs for him. No big deal." He shrugged.

Bulma tilted her head as she mulled this over, a tiny frown gracing her features. "What do you need money for? You have everything you need right here."

"He needed some assistance and frankly, some of us lazy, good for nothing circus freaks might be getting tired of mooching," Vegeta responded as casually as if they'd been discussing the weather.

"Vegeta, you're not-" Bulma cut herself off mid-sentence, well aware of exactly where he'd heard such an accusation, but knowing she'd already said too much.

"What is it, Bulma? Is he a liar, or are you afraid of offending me because he's not?" Vegeta ran his finger around the lip of his mug.

Oh Kami. How to respond to that? "Vegeta, Hiroshi doesn't know you the way I do," she managed.

"He knows what he needs to, does he not?"

Bulma dropped her eyes and stared down at the table, guilt coursing through her. She'd told Hiroshi the worst about Vegeta, and to compound the issue Vegeta had made it no secret that he was regretful about the loss of their relationship. She had no doubt that he would leap at the opportunity should she tell him she was interested in getting back together with him. Of course Hiroshi would view him as a threat. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He reached over and placed one of his hands over hers. "So am I," he whispered back.

She looked up at him and forced out a little smile. "I guess we should go over this, huh?"

"I guess." Vegeta withdrew his hand. "Bulma, I didn't mean to upset you. Can we just start over?"

Her smile reached her eyes that time. "I'd like that."

* * *

"So we'll have you three arrive in a second limo later." Bulma pointed at the flowchart she'd drawn. "Anya and Geta decided not to have a best man or maid of honor, since they don't know anyone well enough to ask them to do that. They just want something simple. So you don't need to worry about picking anyone else up on the way."

"What are a best man and maid of honor?" Vegeta asked, reaching for the pot to pour himself yet another cup of coffee. He'd taken the pot to the table with him after getting up for the second cup, knowing he'd be back for more.

Damn coffee.

"They're basically there to make sure everything last minute goes as planned," Bulma offered. "They hold onto the rings during the ceremony, and the maid of honor does things like making sure the bride's train gets straightened once she gets down the aisle. Things like that. But Anya's not going to have an extremely long train, and they thought they'd just have little Vegeta be their ring bearer and give them the rings during the ceremony. It would be special for him and them."

"I see." Vegeta mulled this over. "Why would Anya have a locomotive at her marriage ceremony? I cannot imagine-"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by Bulma's laughter. "Oh Veg, you're adorable. A train is just part of the bride's dress. It sort of trails after her, I suppose like the cars of a train follow the engine. It can get tangled up if it's long." She giggled again when a small blush covered his cheeks.

"Wearing a dress one could trip over," Vegeta grumbled with a huff. "Another foolish human custom that makes no sense."

Bulma smiled. "I guess it is a little silly when they're ridiculously long," she agreed. "I've always liked them, though. I'd probably have one." She paused when she realized what she'd just said. "I mean, I..."

"I understand what you mean," Vegeta said quietly. He dropped his eyes. This is what she had wanted with him, what he had denied her, deeming it unimportant. He understood now with sobering clarity that she might have been more forgiving of him had he taken her as his wife. They would have had the same serious issues to work out, but Bulma was a loyal woman. She wouldn't have taken up with another man had they legally belonged to each other.

He'd completely and utterly screwed up, hadn't he?

Bulma felt her heart ache at the shame on his face. Was he thinking about the conversation they'd had in the nursery after she'd received Kazue's wedding invitation? Could it be that he might actually regret not marrying her himself? "Vegeta..." She bit her lip.

He rose from the table, his eyes still averted. "Look, Bulma, I..."

The kitchen door opened and Mrs. Briefs came in. "Bulma, Hiroshi is here," she said a little hesitantly. Both young people looked rather tense.

"Thanks, Mom." Bulma got up as well. "Vegeta, would it be all right if we finished going over this later?"

He nodded. "That's fine." He headed for the door. "I am going out for a while, Bunny," he told Mrs. Briefs quietly. "I will not be here for dinner." Not only could he no longer face Bulma, but he didn't want to be anywhere around Hiroshi.

Bunny placed a hand on his arm. "Are you all right, Dear?" she asked.

Vegeta could hear the concern in her voice and forced out a little smile. "Yes, I just need some fresh air," he told her. "Don't worry."

"But..." Mrs. Briefs sighed. Bulma's notes were on the table. She had an idea of what might have happened, given what they were obviously talking about, but didn't want to pry. "All right. Don't stay out too late."

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek before leaving the kitchen. As he passed through the house on his way toward the front door, he made a point of openly turning up his middle finger at the smug looking man waiting for Bulma. The imbecile only snorted in response. He didn't deserve her. He didn't love her the way he... He...

Vegeta sighed as he put on his shoes. He understood now what Bulma had said about how love could be so wonderful but hurt so badly at times. He hadn't realized what a wonderful thing he'd had until it was gone.

And oh, did it hurt.

* * *

Vegeta rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head at the knock at his door. His head was pounding and he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now.

"Pops?" Anya cracked the bedroom door open. "Are you awake?"

A low grumble she couldn't decipher issued from beneath the pillow.

She stepped inside the room. "Pops, are you all right?" It was then that she saw the mostly empty bottle on his nightstand. "Did you drink all of this last night?" she asked incredulously. When he didn't respond, she pulled the pillow away from his head.

Vegeta covered his head with his arms. He'd gone back to the liquor store the night before and selected a few things that the odd-looking clerk had suggested. He had made his way through most of a bottle of scotch before passing out onto his bed. "Leave me alone," he moaned irritably.

"Pops, why would you do such a thing?" Anya demanded. "Drinking that much isn't going to make things any easier for you. Trust me, I know. Now quit being rude to me, because I don't deserve it."

Vegeta rolled over onto his back and peered at her from beneath his hands. "I wasn't trying to be rude to you," he objected. "I just feel like crap."

"Of course you do," Anya confirmed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. "You have a monster hangover. Promise me you won't do this again."

He scowled at her. "It makes me sleep," he said tiredly. "It makes me forget."

Anya felt her heart wrench with sympathy for her father-in-law. "I'm sorry you're hurting," she murmured. "But please don't make this a habit. I don't want to see you hurt yourself even worse because of it."

He sighed and reached out to pat her arm clumsily. "I know, Anya. Just... Just don't tell anyone about this, okay? Especially Bulma."

"Pops, I'm worried about you," Anya told him.

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm all right," Vegeta assured her. "Honest," he added at her skeptical expression. "What did you come in for?"

"We're going to breakfast and then out for a few wedding things," Anya explained. "You need to come along, so we got a babysitter for the boys."

Vegeta sat up with a small groan. "A babysitter?"

"Yes, a lady that Bulma's assistant recommended. Her name is Etsuko and she's really nice. Vegeta likes her a lot." Anya stood up. "How quickly can you be ready?"

Vegeta sighed. Why must everyone always need to do things when he felt like death warmed over? "Give me ten minutes."

"All right. I'll tell Bunny you're in the shower." Anya left the room and shut the door behind her. She shook her head and sighed. It was pointless to ask why he was doing this to himself; it was obvious why. She just hoped that things between Bulma and him would improve and that the novelty of too much alcohol would wear off in the meantime.

She could hope.

* * *

"I think I'll get the quiche Lorraine," Bulma decided, closing her menu. "If the waitress comes back while I'm in the bathroom, could one of you order for me?"

"No problem, Pumpkin. Take your time," Dr. Briefs told her.

"Thanks." Bulma got up from the table and headed for the bathroom.

"Oh, that does sound good," Mrs. Briefs agreed as she perused her menu. "So do the blueberry blintzes."

"I haven't decided yet either," Anya said with a sigh. "Ooh, maybe the asparagus soufflé."

"I've decided what I want," Geta spoke up.

"With your appetite, you might as well just order one of everything," Anya teased. "The thundering of your stomach growling woke me up this morning."

"You poor dear," Mrs. Briefs said with a laugh. "Vegeta, do you know what you want yet?"

This was precisely what Vegeta had been dreading. When he had taken Gohan to breakfast, he had simply demanded that the boy tell him what was good on the menu and ordered accordingly. He might have known that the Briefs would select a more upscale restaurant today.

"I, uhm..." Vegeta picked up his menu again. There wasn't even a single photograph, and he couldn't read a word of it. Even if he could, what the hell were blintzes, quiche and soufflé, anyway? "I don't know," he mumbled, feeling his face grow hot.

The silence around the table was deafening as collective realization of the situation set in. "Would you like me to go over the menu with you, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked softly.

"Yes, please." Vegeta didn't know what else to say.

"All right." Mrs. Briefs leaned in a little closer so they could both see the menu he was holding.

"Bunny?"

"Yes, Dear?" she asked.

"Please don't tell Bulma." Vegeta's eyes pleaded for her silence.

Mrs. Briefs felt a stab of pity for the obviously humiliated young man of whom she'd grown so fond. "Of course not. None of us would do that," she assured him.

"Thank you." Vegeta let out a long sigh. Hopefully they would get through the menu before Bulma got back.

* * *

Vegeta landed on the roof, his warm breath forming a white cloud above him as he stared up at the cold night sky. He just didn't feel like being inside right then. He'd rather be alone.

Curiosity about the box he'd bought at the liquor store beckoned to him and made him pull it out of his pocket. What was the appeal of these things that made their use so prevalent amongst humans? He'd seen people on the television, people on the street, people in restaurants, even Dr. Briefs himself with them. Well, the doctor _had_ rather defensively claimed they relieved his stress on one occasion when Bulma had pestered him about them, and that she of all people knew that. He opened the box and tapped one of the slim white tubes out.

Gods, but he needed some stress relief.

Vegeta put the cigarette between his lips and pulled out a lighter to light it, then inhaled as he'd seen the myriads of humans who smoked did. True, he had seen creatures of other species engage in the activity, but never to the extent that humans did.

Just as he had when he'd first tried Dr. Briefs' whiskey, Vegeta quickly found himself coughing uncontrollably. His throat and lungs burned and his eyes watered. How the hell could humans find inhaling burnt foliage into their lungs to be stress relief? He might have anticipated this response from his body after having smelled the offensive stench of the smoke from various purgings, but even that was more tolerable. "Damn it," he grumbled, looking at the offending object in between his fingers. He stared at it for a moment, then tried it again.

It wasn't so bad that time.

By the time he'd gotten down to the filter, Vegeta found that he had calmed down considerably as he quietly watched the stars. His keen eyesight detected a satellite moving above the Earth, and he followed it until it left his vision. Was his calm because the cigarette had made him relax, or was such a notion all in his head and he had made himself relax? It didn't make a difference to him. He felt at ease at that moment, and that was what mattered.

* * *

"Are you ready to go, Vegeta?"

Vegeta sighed as he stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror. "I guess so," he told the older man standing beside him, "but I look foolish in this clothing."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "No you don't," he said reassuringly. "You make that tuxedo look good." A flicker of a smirk twitched at Vegeta's lip, and the doctor knew he'd responded in the appropriate manner to alleviate his apprehension. "Just make sure to let the bride shine today. That's what I already reminded Geta."

"Oh, I'm certain he won't forget," Vegeta responded in all seriousness. After the misunderstanding Anya and Geta had experienced a couple weeks prior, Geta had done everything in his power to make certain that his wife was happy with the proceedings.

"Well, he's pacing and mumbling things he needs to remember to himself right now," Dr. Briefs reported, amusement clearly evident in his eyes. "We'd better get him out of here before he wears a path into the floor."

"It's about time to leave, anyway," Vegeta agreed. "Let's get him and go."

* * *

Vegeta peered out the window as the limo pulled up in front of the banquet hall where the wedding would take place. They had not even opened the vehicle's doors yet, and flashbulbs brightened up the entire area. He sighed. "Damn paparazzi."

"You'll get used to it," Dr. Briefs assured him.

Vegeta wasn't so sure of that as the flashbulbs of so many cameras obscured his sensitive vision. "You'd think that King Furry himself was getting married," he responded dryly as they walked into the building.

"Wow. It looks great. Anya must be thrilled."

Vegeta and Dr. Briefs turned to see Geta examining his surroundings. "It had better please her," Vegeta commented. "Those three spent enough time insisting upon the smallest of details, and I'd hate to be the wedding planner if it doesn't."

Dr. Briefs mumbled something about thanking Kami that it was a wedding planner responsible and not him before herding his grandson and Vegeta off to their places.

* * *

Geta's heart melted as his wife walked down the aisle toward him on the arm of his father. She was beaming radiantly, and his father looked as proud as if she were his own beloved daughter.

When they got to the end of the aisle, Anya reached out to pull her father-in-law into a hug, which he returned gently. He gave her a little smile and guided her over to Geta before taking his seat beside Bulma.

Why did it have to be Bulma he sat beside? The question was silly. They were the parents of the groom. Of course he would sit beside her. He kept his gaze straight ahead as the proceedings began, not daring to look at the object of his affections.

Gods, she smelled so good. She looked beautiful as well. Of course, she always looked beautiful, but she looked especially lovely today.

"Who gives this woman to be with this man?"

So engrossed was Vegeta in his thoughts that he nearly missed his cue. He rose to his feet. "I do," he said in a careful level of volume before returning to his seat. He didn't want to yell, but people should be able to hear him, he'd been instructed. How all of these spectators would be able to hear him if he didn't yell he wasn't certain of, but it was of no concern. Anya looked happy, Geta was happy, and the rest of the ceremony would be lovely.

Vegeta heard a sniffle from beside him and looked over at Bulma out of the corner of his eye. She was crying, but he could tell that this was what she referred to as a "good cry" and not tears of sadness. He fought back the impulse to take her hand and returned his attention to the young couple being wed. It wasn't his concern. She wasn't his concern. Still, he couldn't help but feel for her since her selfish boyfriend had refused to attend with her, and he knew that Hiroshi's indifference had hurt her feelings.

_Just pay attention to the ceremony, Vegeta,_ he reminded himself. He couldn't let himself be affected during what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Another sniffle and a dab at the eyes of the woman beside him made Vegeta reach into his pocket and pull out a handkerchief Mrs. Briefs had given him. It was a very nice one, much better than those scratchy tissues that were all through the house. He didn't really need it since he didn't get sick, but one never knew, and so he kept it in his pocket. As discreetly as possible he reached over and set it on her lap.

Bulma found herself a little surprised at the gesture. She'd had no idea he carried a handkerchief with him. It was a good thing, though, because she'd already gone through all of her tissues. "Thank you," she whispered.

He gave her the tiniest of nods. "You're welcome."

* * *

Vegeta stood off to the side of the room and watched the numerous guests dancing. He knew what was expected of him later on and wasn't pleased about it considering the last time he had attempted dancing with Bulma, but he would do it for Anya and Geta's sake.

"Hi, Vegeta!" Nuiko waved at him as she and her husband passed by. He nodded in response. Bulma's assistant was someone he could easily call a pleasant woman, and one of the few people he hadn't minded being around even before he'd begun attempting to be a little more socialable. Since his return from space, Mrs. Briefs had told him that it was something he should work on, since Bulma was quite a socialable woman. She'd been right, Vegeta realized, and so he was making an extra special attempt tonight. Because of the numerous thoughts attacking his conscience regarding how Bulma had wanted this, however, he felt rather depressed and wasn't doing a very good job of it.

His dark eyes continued to scan the crowd. He recognized many of the guests as individuals who had attended a party that the Briefs had thrown just a couple days ago. He had also attended at Mrs. Briefs' request, but she hadn't told him what _kind_ of party it would be. As the night went on, they had all gathered together and counted down the time until the clock struck midnight. Everyone had shouted "Happy New Year!" but his real surprise had been when people began kissing each other. He had been the startled recipient of numerous kisses from many women, the majority of whom had been complete strangers. They had found it to be fun. He had found it to be odd.

Besides, there was only one woman who he wanted to kiss.

A voice beside him interrupted his thoughts. "So, are you going to stand there and brood at your own son's wedding, or are you actually going to relax and let yourself have a little fun for once in your life?"

Vegeta sighed. "What do you want, Woman?"

Chi-Chi pursed her lips. "Don't you realize how devastating your behavior is? How upset you're going to make Geta and Anya every time they watch their wedding video? I can just see it now: 'Look, there's Mom, doesn't she look great? There's Gram and Gramps dancing. They're having so much fun. There's Dad brooding and scowling, as usual…' Won't that be a nice memory?"

"I reiterate, what the hell do you want, Woman?" Vegeta had passed irritated and was beginning to become angry.

Chi-Chi edged a little closer. "I hate Hiroshi, too," she whispered, walking away across the room.

Vegeta blinked and his head whipped her direction. "What?" Neither of them noticed the music starting back up as he followed her.

"Caught your attention, have I?" Chi-Chi raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to do something about it?"

"What did you have in mind?" Vegeta murmured back. "She won't listen to Geta tell her that the prick's no good. She'll listen to _me_ even less." He stumbled into her when a couple dancing nearby, naturally expecting him to be moving as well considering he _was_ on the dance floor, bumped into him.

"Whoops, excuse me, Mr. Briefs," the young man said, continuing on his way.

"Uhm, no problem," Vegeta muttered, his face turning beet red.

" 'Mr. Briefs'? You haven't changed your name, have you?" Chi-Chi asked with obvious amusement.

"No, I haven't," Vegeta snapped, realizing with nervous discomfiture that they were completely surrounded by dancing couples. "Why would I do such an asinine thing and embarrass myself by looking completely desperate?"

"I didn't think you had. Look, we're drawing attention to ourselves," she whispered, grabbing his hands. She placed one at her waist and held onto the other. "Shut up and pretend you know what you're doing so we can talk."

Vegeta looked insulted. "I know what I'm doing, Woman," he snapped again. "What makes you think I don't?" He began to lead.

Chi-Chi pursed her lips and let him. "Well, number one, Goku has two left feet and I'm actually _afraid_ to dance with him."

"I am royalty, not some third-class nincompoop. Of course I…" Vegeta scowled. "You little witch," he muttered, realizing she'd gotten just the reaction she wanted. "Just shut up and tell me what you had in mind."

"I figured you knew how to dance. I just knew you never _would_ and I had no desire to pick my way through this crowd. And don't talk about my Goku that way. He may not be as smart as you claim to be, but he has a heart of gold and he could kick _your_ ass any day of the week," Chi-Chi said, a note of triumph in her voice. "I understand what you're saying about Bulma not listening to you. She won't listen to me either and I want to help her, not drive her away. She deserves better than Hiroshi."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's all fine and good for Bulma and for you, Woman, but why are you asking me for help? I thought you hated me. As much as I want to see Bulma free of that prick, it doesn't make any sense for me to help you find Bulma a new boyfriend."

"Because you live with Bulma and undoubtedly see a lot of things first hand the rest of us won't," Chi-Chi responded.

"Hmph." Vegeta scowled. "I could already recite a 'top ten reasons to kill Hiroshi' list, if you'd like to hear it," he said sarcastically.

"Good. Yes, if you have any incriminating dirt on Hiroshi, I'd like to hear it," Chi-Chi agreed.

Vegeta sighed, thinking. "Nothing like that, unfortunately."

"Should we set him up?" Chi-Chi suggested.

Vegeta shook his head. "Even if we did and it worked, Bulma would never forgive either of us."

She sighed. "I know that. Just wishful thinking, I guess."

"Well, if I think of anything, I'll let you know," Vegeta told her.

Chi-Chi smiled and nodded. "Good." She paused, giving him a contemplative look. "All right, I confess that there _is_ another reason to ask you," she admitted.

"Yes? And what, pray tell, would that be, Woman?"

"Chi-Chi, please. You won't like what I'll refer to you as." She pursed her lips again. "As much as I dislike you at times and hate what you did to my friend, I honestly am forced to admit that while you and Bulma were at your best, I've never seen her happier. _Never_. You've changed a lot, Vegeta, anyone can see that."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "You can't honestly be telling me that you think _I'm_ better than that ass Hiroshi and that you think I'm what Bulma needs," he said incredulously.

Chi-Chi sighed. "I told you, I've never seen Bulma happier than when she was with you, even when you made her sad, and all I care about is her happiness. So, again, I'm forced to admit that yes, I'd rather see _you_ with her than Hiroshi."

"Hmph." Vegeta didn't know quite how to feel about that- pleased that she thought he was a better selection for Bulma, or insulted that he wasn't quite as bad as the scumball she was currently dating.

She seemed to sense his reaction to the matter and decided to change the subject. She gave him a crooked little smile. "You know, you're actually pretty good at this."

"Hmph. Whatever."

"Would you…" She stopped and shook her head.

"What?"

"No, it's okay," Chi-Chi said quietly.

"What?" he repeated.

He was surprised to see her look at him shyly, blushing slightly. "I haven't had this experience in a long, long time. Would you mind if we finished the song?"

His eyebrow rose, but he suddenly realized how physically deprived she was. Maybe to her, Goku did have a heart of gold, but did he really fulfill her needs? _Could_ he? This was not befitting of a Saiyan; their race had obviously been well versed as far as physical activity went. That included physical passion between mates, which often times got intense enough it bordered on violence, giving the Earth expression 'love bite' a whole new definition of meaning. As Goku's prince, he would have to instruct his unfortunately clueless subject where he was lacking. This being the case, he couldn't find it in his heart to turn down the poor woman, annoying or not. Besides, it was something he excelled at, which his Saiyan rival obviously did not. "That's fine, Woman," he answered in a quiet voice.

It was her turn to be surprised, but suddenly _she_ realized that perhaps having someone _want_ to dance with him, show some attention to him, was helping to temporarily soothe the empty spot in him left by Bulma's loss. Whether or not he'd ever admit it, he might have been feeling lonely and excluded this night. "Thanks."

He gave a grunt of acknowledgement. "I cannot have another Saiyan neglecting his mate. I'll give him a kick in the ass for you." A feral grin spread across his face.

"Vegeta!" Chi-Chi objected, frowning at him. Her demeanor softened; perhaps he did care about other people, even a little bit. Her lips quirked up in a crooked smile. "Thanks again. Perhaps you're not as big of a jerk as I thought."

Vegeta snorted. "I don't know whether to be irritated at you or glad that you're finally seeing the light," he teased. "Maybe you're not as big of a harpy as I thought."

"Ha ha, very funny."

* * *

"Say, have you seen Chi-Chi, Bulma?" Goku asked, craning his neck to survey the crowd. "I'm hungry and wanted to know if she wants me to get her a snack."

Bulma shook her head. How could he still be hungry after everything he'd eaten that day? "Nope, sorry. Haven't seen her." She blinked and stared wide eyed into the sea of dancers. "Holy..."

"What?"

"I know it's dim on the dance floor, but that's definitely her. And I'd know that hair anywhere." Bulma continued to gape.

"What do you mean?" Goku asked, following her eyes into the crowd. When he saw his wife, his face took on a similar look. "That's... that's-"

"Yes," Bulma confirmed, astonished when she saw Chi-Chi say something to which Vegeta burst out in genuine laughter as he swung her around. She looked over at Goku to see his reaction.

Her best friend was glowering at the prince dancing with his wife.

"Goku, I'm as astonished as you are, but you never dance with her." She noted that this didn't seem to make him feel any better; rather, it made him even more peevish. "Maybe they're just talking."

"Yeah, well, Vegeta has never danced with you, either," Goku retorted bitterly. "What's he up to, anyway?"

A twinge of jealousy welled up in her; not only was Vegeta dancing with Chi-Chi, a woman he claimed to dislike intensely, but he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. What made it worse was that Goku was indeed correct; Vegeta had never danced with _her_, other than the few seconds in the den with Anya and Geta. "I have no idea. Just shut up and try not to be too obvious, Goku," she muttered.

* * *

Chi-Chi gave Vegeta a genuine smile. "I really enjoyed that. Even if it was with _you_," she teased.

Vegeta snorted again. "I barely found it tolerable." It was at that moment that he happened to notice Goku's dark scowl as he watched his wife dancing with another man. He grinned broadly as the next song started- he couldn't have asked for a better genre. "A certain someone's watching us," he informed her with amusement. "No, no, don't look. Just know that he looks mad and he's shooting me a death glare. Consider this part of his ass kicking." He took the proper stance. "I hope you tango, Woman, because if you don't, you're about to get a crash course." He grinned and raised his eyebrows as he made eye contact with Goku, relishing the younger man's glare becoming even more outraged, before turning his attention back to his dance partner.

"Yes, I tango- oh!" Her eyes widened and she gasped as he jerked her body flush up against his.

"By the way," Vegeta whispered in her ear, "just so there'll be no surprises, this one isn't going to be all good and nice. Hope there's no problem with that."

* * *

Vegeta was true to his word; he manipulated the loud, headstrong woman in an extremely erotic, aggressive fashion as he led her around the floor. At first it shocked her, but was she was even more mortified to find that she was actually _enjoying_ being dominated in the way he was dancing with her, and her response to his lead wasn't exactly timid. She wished Goku would learn a thing or two from watching his wife dancing up close and personal with the surly Saiyan prince.

A slow smirk slid over her lips. _Hmph. If he's that jealous of Vegeta dancing with me, maybe he will!_

So intent was Vegeta on ticking off Goku that he didn't notice the dance floor quickly begin to clear as the other couples stepped back to watch the surprisingly talented father of the groom dance with the mother of the groom's good friend, who wasn't half bad herself.

Wait... here was the father of the groom dancing chest to chest, hip to hip with the mother of the groom's friend, and smirking like the cat who ate the canary. My, o_h_ my…

Two young women stood nearby, sipping their drinks while giggling and whispering as they watched. "Kami, this is hot. I wish my boyfriend was watching. He's too busy stuffing his face with the hors d'oeuvres."

"I know, look at her, all flushed and bright eyed like that!" She giggled. "What do you want to bet somebody's turned _ooonnnn_…"

They didn't hear the angry growl emanating from the Saiyan standing behind them as they continued to giggle and converse.

"You mean her or you? Well, I guess I would be too if a complete stud like that had me pressed up against him."

"Look, he's obviously quite into legwork. Are you watching all of these kicks and ganchos? There they go again."

"This girl has _no_ chance. Look how rough he is. She's putty in his hands."

"No, I think she's managing to handle him quite well and she's definitely enjoying herself. But I must admit, that naughty little grin alone would do it for me." She sighed wistfully.

"Hey, why don't you see if you can cut in, Tsumugi? Since Ms. Briefs dumped him, maybe you could wrap _your_ legs around him."

"Orika! You're such a perverted little hussy." She giggled. "That's not such a bad idea. Hey, wait a minute. Isn't that his friend's _wife?_"

"Oh Kami, I think you're right! He probably won't be his friend much longer!"

They erupted into hysterical giggles and wandered off, closer to the edge of the dance floor for a better view of the dance.

Bulma had heard the entire conversation and had her fingers over her mouth as she warily eyed Goku, who of course had also heard. He was growling, fists clenched, teeth bared and eyes glazed over with hate. She had _never_ seen him so angry in her life. "Uhm, Goku?" she ventured.

"I'm going to snap that little midget's neck," he snarled under his breath, utterly shocking her. "How _dare_ he humiliate me by dancing with _my_ wife like this, and taunting me with that stupid smirk of his while he's doing it?"

"Maybe that's the point," Bulma said desperately. "You know how depressed he's been lately. He's been doing careless things and beating himself senseless in the GR. Listen to yourself, Goku. He _knows_ you're the only one who could kill him. He _tried_ that, remember? You know you don't want that, and I know that you don't want to leave my son without a father. You of all people understand how painful that is. Find out what his true motives are."

Her words hit him like a bucket of ice cold water. "Oh Kami, you're right," he whispered. "What was I thinking?"

"You're jealous and rightfully so," Bulma acknowledged. "I can't say I'm all too happy about it myself, but I don't want to kill Chi-Chi because of it."

Goku gave her a sideways glance. "You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

Bulma found herself caught completely off guard. "Don't be ridiculous," she objected, turning bright pink in a pathetic attempt to hide her lie. Even though the room was dark, she knew he could see that she was blushing. "I'm with Hiroshi now."

"Okay, B. Whatever you say." Goku looked at her with amusement, making her blush even more deeply. _I'd bet anything that she's definitely still in love with him._

* * *

The music trailed off and Vegeta ended the dance by dipping his partner back, leaning over her as he did so, his lips dangerously close to her neck. His head snapped up and he felt his cheeks darkening when the room exploded into applause and wolf whistles. They were the only ones left on the dance floor and _everyone _had been watching them.

Chi-Chi looked up to match his startled expression as their eyes met, she too blushing. "Oh, great," they chorused quietly. He stood her back on her feet.

"Now what?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "I didn't exactly expect this."

"Nor I," she responded in kind. Thinking quickly, she curtsied to her audience, Vegeta immediately following suit with a smooth bow.

"Encore!" someone shouted, causing a smattering of the demand to ripple through the room.

The two looked at each other helplessly and shrugged, knowing there wasn't really any point in refusing after the show they'd just put on.

"Well?"

"Well?"

"Whatever."

"That's my line."

He gave her a resolute look and cast a look and a shrug to the deejay, who gave him a grin and a thumbs-up, causing everyone to cheer some more as they realized that they were about to get another show.

Chi-Chi cocked her head, listening to the new song. "Oh! This is a swing dance song. Definitely not a slow one."

"Thank Kami," Vegeta said. "I don't need any lovey-dovey dances." He paused. "What the hell is a swing dance?"

"You know, like the Charleston, Jitterbug, Foxtrot..."

He gave her a blank look.

"Remember that movie that Bulma and I were watching last weekend when the people were dancing in the bar and you asked if they were on drugs or something?" Chi-Chi asked, amusement evident in her voice.

His face lit up with recognition. "Oh! I know what you're talking about now." He scowled. "You want me to do _that_? I'd look like an imbecile!"

"No, you won't. Loosen up and have a little fun." She grinned and grabbed his hands, executing a few steps on her own. "Think of how much it'll mean to Anya and Geta."

He sighed, gave her a tired 'you owe me, Woman' look, and joined her, much to the enjoyment of their spectators. He evidently hadn't done it before but quickly caught on.

* * *

Chi-Chi was feeling guilty knowing that Goku was angry about her dancing with Vegeta. Almost. She figured that he'd better get over it since he couldn't be bothered to even try to learn, no matter how much she harassed him about it. Why should she sit there doing nothing during the reception while everyone else was having a good time? He _deserved_ to be jealous.

Which brought up a new argument- why did Vegeta also deserve to be forced to stand by himself watching everyone else enjoy themselves, even if he insisted he didn't want to participate? The man was obviously not devoid of emotions, no matter what he said about not having them. She and Vegeta had become involved in a discussion and when the music started, what was the harm? Goku wasn't about to dance with her, and she sure as hell wasn't about to run off with _Vegeta_ of all people. If their dancing together woke up either of the people they'd hoped had noticed- and she _knew_ Vegeta wanted Bulma to notice, or else he wouldn't have tangoed with her the way he had- then it had been worth it. Besides, they were both having fun, something, Chi-Chi realized, was sorely lacking in her life of late. Dancing was something she enjoyed, and Vegeta was a convenient and, more importantly, a more than capable partner.

Who would have thought it?

Bulma couldn't help but gape in amazement as she watched Vegeta dancing quite energetically with Chi-Chi. He wasn't as good at it as he was at his tango, but he was doing a pretty darn impressive job of it. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself, and definitely enjoying the response he was receiving from people watching. They cheered loudly, drowning out Chi-Chi's squeal of excitement when he picked her up by the waist and swung her up, all the while smirking at Goku, who watched with arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face.

Chi-Chi was glad when the song ended despite enjoying the dance; even in as good physical shape as she was, exhaustion was rapidly overcoming her.

"Yeah, go Pops!" Anya shouted, clapping wildly when they'd finished. She ran over to him and gave him a big hug, pleased as she could possibly be when he returned it gently. "I must admit, I never expected to see you swinging on the dance floor." She let him go and grinned at him.

"Disappointed, girl?"

"Hardly!" Anya exclaimed. "Only if I don't get my dance, too."

"Ha! Don't get used to this foolish behavior from me," Vegeta told her sternly, but she knew quite well that he was barking infinitely louder than he ever intended to bite.

"You know, doing the splits would've been a cool way to end your little swing number, Pops." She giggled at the blank expression on his face.

"The splits? You mean..." He gestured with his fingers as if they were a pair of legs, and snorted when she giggled in assent. "Me, doing the splits. Yeah. Pigs will fly before that happens."

"I could just throw Oolong into a jet and-"

"I don't _think_ so, Goldilocks."

A group of giggling young women approached them.

"Anya, you look beautiful," one of them commented.

Anya recognized her as one of Bulma's employees who worked in Payroll. "Thanks, Yae," she told the young woman sincerely.

Yae nodded. "Are you and your father-in-law going to dance right now?" she asked innocently.

Anya blinked. "Well, I'd like to, but we haven't-"

"Oh, you poor man," one of the other young ladies cooed. "You must be_ so_ lonely."

"I'm not-" Whatever Vegeta was about to say was cut short when she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

"I'll dance with you," she 'offered', pulling the startled Saiyan onto the dance floor, which had only been a couple yards away.

"Hey!" Yae objected, hands on hips as she watched her friend snap up the hot guy she'd been wanting to dance with.

"I, uhm..." he turned his head to look at his daughter-in-law, who merely smiled and waved him on, and sighed. "All right, but just one," he mumbled, embarrassed but unwilling to embarrass his daughter-in-law by rejecting the woman.

People started cheering when they saw him being hauled back onto the dance floor.

"My name is Hideko, by the way," the woman told him. "This is going to be fun!"

"Yeah, fun," Vegeta responded, trying not to sound too put out or bored.

* * *

Vegeta ended up being accosted by numerous women, all of whom wanted to dance with him. Eventually he just gave up and allowed it, especially after he saw Goku's spiteful look. He decided to let himself enjoy being the center of attention of many beautiful women; at the very least, that would tick Goku off even more.

"May I cut in?"

The young woman Vegeta was currently dancing with reluctantly stepped aside when she saw who was asking. "Sure..."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose as his new partner stepped closer to him and took his hand. "Bulma..."

"I figured you'd decide you've had enough soon and better get one in before you do," she said quietly. "You're quite popular tonight."

"Yeah, I guess."

They danced awkwardly in silence for a moment. "Come on, Vegeta. You weren't this stiff and standoffish when you were dancing with complete strangers," she whispered. "We've never seriously done this before and I'm a little disappointed that you aren't enjoying it."

Vegeta sighed and did his best to relax. What did she want out of him? "I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you, Bulma."

She looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he contradicted her. "If I wasn't such a disappointment, we wouldn't be..." He dropped his eyes.

She bit her lip. "Vegeta, I didn't mean it the way you took it," she objected.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured as the song ended. "I just-" He paused, drawing in a deep breath and looking off into the sea of people before continuing. "I can't do this, Bulma. I'm sorry." He let go of her and turned to leave.

"Vegeta, wait! What's wrong? It's just a dance." She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes at her touch. "I _want_ you, Bulma, but you've chosen to be with someone else, someone who couldn't even be bothered to accompany you to an event which is highly important to you, even if only to please you," he whispered. "I won't torture myself..." He stopped and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the dance."

Bulma's eyes filled with tears as he kissed her hand and left the dance floor. He was right. This _was_ important to her, and Hiroshi had been completely disinterested and negative about it. She blinked her eyes rapidly, refusing to let herself cry at her son's wedding reception. She'd already shed her tears of happiness and people had seen her dancing with Vegeta; if she broke down now, surely they would talk.

* * *

"Give me a vodka on the rocks," Vegeta requested, leaning tiredly against the bar.

The bartender eyed him but said nothing. He'd already personally given this man several other drinks and while he didn't appear to be intoxicated, he didn't want to be responsible if it happened. This _was_ the father of the groom, however, so he did as he was told and got the drink. "Here you are, Mr. Vegeta." He set the glass down in front of Vegeta.

"Thanks." Despite the fact that this man was being paid a boatload of money to bartend this wedding, Vegeta stuffed a few zeni into the tip jar and took his drink, heading off to an unoccupied table to drink it. On his way he passed the hors d'oeuvres table and filled a small plate with them. He collapsed into a chair with a loud sigh.

"Tired?"

Vegeta looked up to see Dr. Briefs standing behind him. He looked almost odd wearing a tuxedo instead of the lab coat he'd grown so accustomed to seeing the doctor wear.

He nodded, and took a sip of his drink. "Very. It's been a long day."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "That it has. But I can't imagine how you could be tired after all of that dancing." He shook his head in amusement. "I never knew you could dance."

Vegeta nodded at the chair beside him and pulled it away from the table a little, indicating that the older man should have a seat. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he informed him. He swirled the liquid in his glass slowly, watching it as it washed around the ice cubes it surrounded.

Dr. Briefs sat down in the offered chair, a little surprised that Vegeta would ask for his company, even without words. "Evidently, my boy." He took a sip of his own drink.

Vegeta's eyes flicked up to meet the doctor's. The statement was short and to the point, but did he use it as what might be a blatantly obvious double meaning, or was it just an expression he'd used? "I see." He shoved the plate of finger foods toward Dr. Briefs. "Have some."

"Do you, now?" Dr. Briefs took a piece of food and popped it into his mouth. "Thank you."

"All right, then. What is it I should be seeing? And you're welcome," Vegeta responded, wondering why they were doing something so absurd as carrying on two conversations simultaneously.

"I kept quiet about the things I dislike about you for Bulma's sake," Dr. Briefs said in a low voice, startling the Saiyan beside him; obviously it wasn't quite what Vegeta had expected to hear. "However, when it comes to her current company, well, let me just say these three words." He leaned toward Vegeta. "I _hate_ Hiroshi. I dislike that word. It's so intensely cold and dark. Evil. But I can't think of a better way to describe that man. He's so full of maliciousness, and I am convinced that not only does he not care about my baby girl or her feelings about who and what is important to her, but he is only after her talent to make a nice fat profit off of it."

Vegeta nodded, astounded by the doctor's confession; he'd hardly ever seen the man angry, let alone let on that he _hated_ someone. "My boy?" he repeated quietly.

"I've never hated you, Vegeta, even after you hurt my daughter the way you did," Dr. Briefs said quietly. "There is something about you, something deep inside, that prevents me from doing that. Something about the way Bulma was when you two were together, as well." He regarded Vegeta the way a cat watches a mouse. "My daughter is important to you, isn't she?"

Again, Vegeta found himself surprised by the older man's questioning. "Well, yes. She is my son's mother and she makes sure I have what I need to properly train-"

"Liar," Dr. Briefs interrupted accusingly. He locked eyes with Vegeta, and the cat pounced with an even bigger question. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Vegeta sat frozen for a moment before dropping his eyes and sighing. "I... I cannot contradict you," he admitted, feeling his face flush.

"I thought so," Dr. Briefs confirmed quietly, but there was no mocking tone to his voice. "I only hope that Bulma realizes that too and comes to her senses before she gets seriously hurt."

Again Vegeta's eyes flicked up to meet the doctor's. " '_Before _she gets seriously hurt'?" he repeated incredulously.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that's what I said. I'll be blunt - you hurt my daughter terribly, but it's obvious to both the missus and me that you very much regret it. It's also obvious that you care greatly for my grandson and great grandson. I know that you were emotionally neglected as a boy, and the effort you're putting in to leave that in the past and make sure those children know how much they are loved and valued in your eyes must be tremendous for you. That means a lot to me, as does certain someone's complete lack of interest in and even open distaste of those same children." He leaned back in his chair and continued to look at the younger man beside him assessingly.

"I..." Vegeta closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. It was the second time that evening that someone he hadn't thought cared much for him had told him that he was a more welcome choice for Bulma than her current love interest. "So, basically you're saying that until Bulma finds a better man, I'm the lesser of two evils."

Dr. Briefs actually laughed. "Oh, no. Not at all," he said, watching the younger man's face fall. "I seriously doubt she'll ever find someone more compatible _or_ better for her than you were when you were with her," he finished softly, easing the hurt from the way Vegeta had misinterpreted his previous statement.

"I... I don't know how to respond to that," Vegeta stammered.

"How about this? Down with the bastard known as Hiroshi."

Vegeta's face split into a slow smile. "_Oh_, yeah..."

* * *

Bulma noticed her father approach Vegeta and was astonished when Vegeta evidently agreed that her father could not only sit with him, but share his _food_ with him as well. She watched covertly as they conversed for a few minutes; based on the reactions of both of them, notably Vegeta, it was a serious conversation going on and not just small talk. But nothing could have prepared her for when Vegeta grinned broadly, made a fist and held it out to her father, knuckles facing him, only to have the scientist bump his fist against Vegeta's. They both lifted their glasses, made a quick toast, and took a drink.

"What in the world?" she muttered as a smiling Dr. Briefs rose from his seat and patted Vegeta on the back of his shoulder before leaving the table.

Anya wandered up beside her, evidently also having seen at least part of the incident. "What was _that_ all about?" she asked, gesturing toward the table Dr. Briefs had just left with a nod of her chin.

"I have _no_ idea," Bulma admitted.

* * *

Vegeta downed the rest of his drink and stared at the sea of people milling around and talking. The music had stopped and now no one was doing anything in particular.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please," the deejay's voice came over the speakers. "Now that you've all had your turns tearing up the dance floor," he paused with a chuckle, "and yeah, you know who in particular you are," he continued, eliciting both laughter and a few shouts and wolf whistles, "the bride and groom are ready to have _their_ first dance together."

Everyone clapped as Anya and Geta walked hand in hand onto the dance floor. Vegeta watched as the young couple held each other close and shared a slow dance, frequently stealing little kisses and other displays of affection. He was surprised to catch himself feeling... envious? No, that couldn't be right.

But he knew it was. It wasn't the wedding, nor the dance. It was the way they held each other, how they devoured each other with their lips and eyes.

The way Bulma used to look at _him_, speak softly to _him_, kiss _him_...

Everyone cheered, bringing his thoughts back to his surroundings, as the dance ended and a new song started. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we will invite family to join the bride and groom on the dance floor," the deejay announced.

Vegeta suppressed a sigh as his and Bulma's names were announced as the parents of the groom. This was _not_ what he needed. He got up and headed for the dance floor, not wanting to make a scene and ruin his kids' big day.

He held out his hand to her as she too approached and again led her onto the floor. Expressionless, he stared over her shoulder, watching as her parents were also introduced and began to dance.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, feeling awful about the situation.

Nothing.

"Vegeta!" she whispered a little louder.

He looked down at her. "What is it?" he asked, not unkindly.

Bulma's lower lip wavered slightly and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. "I… I know you're having an awful time right now and you'd rather be doing anything other than being near me," she told him, fighting to maintain her composure. "Please don't hate me for this."

"Hate you? Bulma, are you crazy?" he interrupted her, looking her in the eyes. "I don't hate you. I could _never_ hate you. I..." He trailed off, entrapped by those blue eyes that had never failed to affect him. "Don't cry, Bulma," he whispered, reaching up with one finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. "Please don't cry."

She gave him a shaky little smile.

His stomach twisted as she did so. His hand had not yet left her cheek and, without thinking, he cupped the side of her face.

They forgot about where they were, what they were doing- or _supposed _to be doing- or who was watching as his hand tipped her chin up and they gazed deeply into each other's eyes. People began whisper amongst each other when they noticed the two standing still, simply staring into each other's eyes. Their faces drew closer together, their eyelids growing heavy and closing as their lips-

"Let's give them all a hand, everyone!" The deejay's demand was satisfied when the onlookers broke out into applause, startling them both. They jumped and moved their faces apart, eyes widening and cheeks growing pink as they realized what they'd almost done. Bulma and Vegeta had never been a couple who had indulged in lackadaisical kisses; no doubt it would have been quite the hot kiss.

Vegeta cleared his throat and went back to staring over Bulma's shoulder as they resumed the dance. His eyes caught the doctor's, who raised an eyebrow at him; evidently he'd seen the whole thing, but then again, who hadn't? Embarrassed, Vegeta dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bulma," he whispered.

"I'm sorry too, Vegeta," she whispered back.

They finished the dance in silence. When it was over, he let go of her hand and nodded an acknowledgement to her before leaving the dance floor.

"Vegeta..." Bulma covered her lips with her fingers and watched him go, completely frustrated and confused by what had just happened. How could she have allowed it? She had been so lost in those deep black eyes that if they hadn't been startled, she would have undoubtedly engaged in a heavy kiss with Vegeta right in front of everyone. It was common knowledge that she was dating Hiroshi; what would people have said? It was too late for that. Their lips had been so close that they'd have connected in another half second- people were _going_ to talk about that and it was _going _to get back to Hiroshi. There was nothing she could do.

For probably the millionth time, she wondered what the hell she was doing with Hiroshi when Vegeta made her feel _so_ good and Hiroshi... well, he never even told her she meant anything to him. Why was she being so stubborn? What was she trying to prove? She knew in her heart that Hiroshi just might not be right for her, but was Vegeta? Her pride wouldn't allow her to dump Hiroshi and go crawling back to him.

Wait. Her _pride_ wouldn't allow her to do it?

Bulma's heart sank as the realization hit her. She was treating Vegeta the same way he'd treated her. She'd been so enamored with him and eager for his attention that she'd done whatever she could to please him. Sometimes he'd responded, other times he'd been cold and cruel.

_Have I been cruel to Vegeta? I didn't think so. What did he deserve when he showed back up, for me to instantly run back into his arms, after how he hurt me? Kami, why do I have to keep going over and over this in my head?_

She sighed and sat down, trying to shove back all of the conflicting thoughts in her head so she could at least attempt to enjoy the remainder of the reception.

* * *

"Well, my boy, what was _that_ all about?"

Vegeta sighed and his shoulders slumped when he heard the doctor's voice address him. "I don't know," he mumbled, turning to face him. "I just don't know." He ran his fingers through his hair uneasily. "It wasn't intentional, I assure you."

Dr. Briefs decided to pity the blushing Saiyan rather than berate him. "Let's leave for a moment," he instructed.

"Leave? Where did you want to go?" Vegeta asked, surprised by his request.

"Somewhere we can talk in private and I can have a cigarette. Out back of the building, perhaps?" Dr. Briefs suggested.

Vegeta was skeptical but followed the doctor out a back door, which they propped open so they wouldn't get locked out.

"So. What did you want to talk to me about?" Vegeta asked.

"Bulma, of course," Dr. Briefs responded automatically. "What else?" He reached into his pocket and got out his cigarettes. "Now where did I put that lighter?" he mumbled around the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "I must have left it in my lab coat. Drat."

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out a book of matches, which had 'Geta and Anya' embossed in gold print with the date underneath. "Here." He pulled a single match out and held the book out to Dr. Briefs, who looked at him quizzically.

"Thank you," Dr. Briefs said, accepting the matches, "but why did you take one out first?"

"For the cigarette I was going to bum off you," Vegeta responded matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Sure." Dr. Briefs tipped the pack so another cigarette slid out. "I didn't think you smoked," he commented, lighting his cigarette.

"Normally don't," Vegeta responded, drawing the match along a brick on the building to light it. "But it's become a lot more frequent lately." He took a deep drag on the cigarette. It was amazing just how quickly he'd become addicted to the foul-smelling tubes of tobacco.

"When, and even more, _why_ did you start?" Dr. Briefs inquired. "I'd rather you didn't. I know it's a nasty habit but I just can't seem to break myself of it."

Vegeta sighed, blowing the smoke out his nose. "Hasn't been that long," he grumbled. "I guess I find it somewhat calming, since I continue to find ways to screw my life up even worse than it already is."

Dr. Briefs nodded, waiting for the younger man to continue.

"I... I took the only good thing I'd ever had and threw it away, all for the sake of my stupid pride," Vegeta said softly. "Why? How could I do that?" he asked, shaking his head. "I could have left and come back like I did and everything would have been fine had I just told her the truth." He took another drag and threw the cigarette down, grinding it under his shoe. "And now, it's too late. I'm yesterday's garbage and now she's dating today's." He laughed bitterly. "I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. If she would just let me, I'd show her what she really means to me, how I should have treated her from day one." His face reddened again and he stared at his shoes.

_It's absolutely amazing how much he's changed._ "Well, based on what almost just happened between you two, I'd say keep on doing what you're doing," Dr. Briefs suggested.

Vegeta looked up at him. "What?"

"Bulma isn't stupid. She's being stubborn because she's hurt and confused. She's with what's-his-name right now, who, quite frankly, treats her and everyone she cares about like dirt. Despite that and the fact that you are treating her like an absolute princess, which she obviously didn't expect, it's difficult to swallow her pride and just dump him to take you back." The doctor likewise finished his cigarette and ground it out beneath his shoe. "You already mentioned understanding how difficult dealing with your pride has made your life. Don't give up on Bulma. Show her that there _is_ something better than what she's being offered, and someone better to give it to her- you. So as I said, just keep on doing what you're doing." He smiled mischievously. "Perhaps one day this matchbook will say something different, hmm?" He held the matches out to Vegeta.

Vegeta blushed still again as he pocketed the matchbook. "I, uh, I suppose it would," he mumbled, embarrassed by the doctor's insinuation.

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Good. Don't give up, Son." He smiled at the expression on Vegeta's face. The Saiyan had _never_ expected that from him. "Whoo, it's cold out here. Let's get back to the reception."

Vegeta nodded. "Thank you, Shatsu. But before we go, I have to hide the evidence." A short burst of ki engulfed him, instantly killing the smell of the cigarette he'd smoked. "You won't tell anyone?" It suddenly occurred to him that he'd made that request quite a bit lately.

Dr. Briefs shrugged. "As I said, I wish you wouldn't, but as long as you don't smoke around my grandsons, I'm not your babysitter."

"Oh, no, I'd never smoke around them, I assure you," Vegeta promised. He held the door open for them to go back inside.

"Good," Dr. Briefs agreed. "Now, what do you say we-"

"Well, hello there, Shatsu." The two men turned to see a distinguished looking man approaching them.

"Wonderful that you could make it, Masujiro," Dr. Briefs said, shaking the man's hand. "Vegeta, this is Masujiro Daishi, an old friend of mine. And Masujiro, this is Vegeta, my grandson's father."

"Nice to meet you," Vegeta said politely, shaking the man's hand.

"Likewise," Masujiro agreed. He'd heard quite a bit from Dr. Briefs about Vegeta and had been hoping to make his acquaintance. "By the way, that was some pretty impressive dancing earlier, young man."

"Thank you," Vegeta responded, a little embarrassed. But what was done was done, and everyone had seen him dancing like a fool. "I don't normally dance. I just did it for my son and daughter-in-law."

Dr. Briefs' eyebrow rose. "Well then, Son, how do you explain the way you danced with Chi-Chi?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Oh, yes. Chi-Chi..." Vegeta grinned. "Didn't you see how livid Kakarrot was? Perhaps now he will get some lessons so his wife can stop harping at him because he has two left feet."

Bulma watched them from a distance and frowned when the three of them laughed at whatever Vegeta had said. It seemed that he was in a relatively good mood- as long as he wasn't around her, that is. She sighed, feeling decidedly lonely and sorry for herself. Things were so messed up right now. She was utterly confused by Vegeta's behavior that evening and had to get things figured out with Hiroshi. He'd be mad at her for sure once he heard about what had almost happened.

"Bulma? Are you all right, Dear?"

Bulma smiled at her mother, who was approaching her with VJ in her arms. "Yes, fine," she told her, taking her son. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all."

_I'm sure you do._ Mrs. Briefs laid a hand on the back of Bulma's shoulder to encourage her along. "All right. Come on, they're going to cut the cake in a few minutes."

Bulma followed her mother silently. She'd work things out or go crazy trying.

* * *

"No."

"It's just a line dance, Father."

"Precisely. No."

"C'mon-"

"No."

"It's not the chicken dance, I swear to Kami."

"Good."

"Then you'll do it?"

"No."

"Just once?"

"What part of 'no' don't you comprehend, Son?"

"The 'no' part. Father, it would make Anya so happy."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would. Anya loves line dancing."

"I'm sure she'd love me snapping her husband's fool head off at your own reception, too."

Geta sat down beside his father. "Should I have her ask you herself? Would that help?"

"No. I'd still say 'no'."

"Are you going to say 'no' to everything I say tonight?"

Vegeta downed his entire drink in two large gulps, making Geta's eyebrow rise quite high, and looked over to his son. "No, I'm going to answer 'yes' to that question, then go right back to, oh, how about, _no_."

"Just tell me why not, then."

"Because I don't want to."

"But why not?"

"It is a foolish waste of time and energy. True dancing requires skill. This requires no talent whatsoever." Vegeta paused, and a huge grin split across his face. "Perhaps you should get Kakarrot to try it." He roared with laughter.

Geta eyed his father skeptically. "Are you drunk?"

Vegeta set his glass on the table next to three empty ones already there. "Nope. Not yet. Got a bit of a nice buzz going. Don't worry about it," he assured Geta, noticing his look of displeasure, "I won't get plastered and embarrass you. I already did a good enough job of _that_ when I danced with Kakarrot's woman."

"Father, no one thought badly of your dancing, I assure you. Everyone thought it was great. Anya was tickled pink, and still wants another dance with you." Geta sighed. Why was his father acting this way?

"I will have a dance with Anya, but not some ridiculous line dance," Vegeta informed him. "I am not trying to spoil your evening, but I don't want to participate in a line dance, understand?"

Geta nodded. His father had been more than cooperative thus far, much more than he'd expected. "All right, Father. I'm sorry I bugged you about it. But you should know that Anya and I are very pleased that you've been as actively involved as you have been tonight."

Vegeta nodded in return. He'd done it for them, only for them, especially the dance with Bulma. It had pained him to be so close to her, knowing that he could not have her. "Let me know when Anya wants her dance."

"Will do." Geta gave him a two-fingered wave and headed over to the line dance.

Vegeta watched him go. He'd been embarrassed by his behavior that night, but if his dancing had made Anya happy, that was what was important.

Now, if he could only find a way to deal with the rest of the night.

* * *

"Oh look, Anya and Geta sent us a postcard," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, holding up the brightly colored card for everyone to see. The young couple had gone on a week-long cruise to a chain of several tropical islands for their honeymoon. They would have gone on a longer trip, but Mrs. Briefs had insisted upon Anya having a birthday party with family and friends upon their return, and they wanted to be back a few days early for it.

"What does it say, Mom?" Bulma asked with interest. She'd been moody and sullen for the past few days after quite a heated discussion with her boyfriend regarding 'relationship propriety', which hadn't turned out in her favor in the slightest. Some pleasant news from her son and daughter-in-law sounded good to her.

"Let's see. 'Hi everyone. We're having a wonderful time. The weather is gorgeous, the activities on the ship are fun and the food is fabulous. I think the kitchen employees are sick of Geta's all-you-can-eat appetite, though.' " Mrs. Briefs giggled before continuing to read. " 'We should all do this together sometime. Anyway, we miss you all and send hugs and kisses. Love, Anya and Geta.' Oh, what a lovely postcard," the blonde woman cooed. She went over to the refrigerator and hung the card there with a magnet.

"I'm glad they're having fun," Bulma commented, pouring herself some coffee. "They deserve a little R and R."

Vegeta shifted his son on his lap and tilted the bottle the boy was drinking a little more appropriately. He made no comment about the postcard. Given the chance to do things over, he would have taken Bulma anywhere her heart desired and lavished her with the love and affection she deserved. He held in a sigh. Would she ever find it in her heart to forgive him and love him again?

"I'm glad for them too," Dr. Briefs agreed. "Cruises are such fun."

"Anya is such a sweet girl," Mrs. Briefs added. "I'm so happy for Geta." She bustled over to the stove. "Does a pork roast for dinner sound all right with you?"

"Sounds great, Mom," Bulma spoke up. "And judging by the look on Daddy's face, I'd say he's in agreement."

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands. "What about you, Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked up from his son. "I would very much enjoy pork roast, thank you," he told her. He got up from his seat. "I'll put Vegeta down for a nap, and maybe catch a little bit myself."

"All right, Dear." Mrs. Briefs watched him go, a frown of concern on her face. "I hope he's all right. He seemed so sad all of a sudden."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Bunny," Dr. Briefs assured her. "He indicated that he was tired. Maybe it's just that." He personally thought that something else must be bothering Vegeta, but kept his suspicion to himself. Based on their conversation at Anya and Geta's wedding, it wasn't that hard to guess what he might be thinking. But he wouldn't pry; if the boy wanted to talk about it, he'd seek him out.

Bulma wasn't buying it either but also decided to keep her comments to herself. "I'll be in my lab if either of you need me."

* * *

Vegeta laid his sleeping son in his crib and pulled the thin crib blanket over him up to his chest. He ran a gentle hand over the boy's hair. His son was getting big so fast. Soon he would no longer be an infant. He turned to peer into the crib on the other wall. His grandson was still sleeping, so he crept out of the nursery and shut the door.

Vegeta went to his own room and flopped down on the bed. He was feeling quite melancholy and didn't really feel like being around anyone at the moment. Of course, if she came to see him, he'd make an exception.

He sighed, knowing that in all likelihood that wasn't going to happen, and got up to open his window. He flew up to the roof to sit there awhile and watch the big puffy snowflakes falling come down around him. It was peaceful enough outside that he didn't mind the cold; a light ki shield would take care of that.

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter. Damn addictive, smelly tubes of leaves. Just another thing to add to his list of vices along with coffee and, unfortunately, alcohol, the way things were going lately. Every time that utter bastard came over, it was the best thing he could think of to do other than blast the man. Thus saying, he always ended up leaving and going to a bar or club, or he'd hole up in his room.

Before he knew it, the rest of the pack was gone. Just how long had he been out here? He sighed and shot a quick burst of ki around himself to kill the smoke smell before going back indoors. No, she hadn't come. But he hadn't really expected she would, either.

* * *

Vegeta padded to the kitchen, coffee first and foremost on his mind. He'd have a quick breakfast and head outside to train if no one needed him for anything.

He paused at the door. What a depressing thought. He pushed the door open to see Dr. Briefs squatting down next to the sink and examining the plumbing. "Good morning, Shatsu."

The doctor looked up at him. "Good morning, Vegeta."

Vegeta frowned a little, as the older man seemed irritated. "Is something wrong with the sink?"

Dr. Briefs hauled himself back up to his feet with a small groan. "Damned stiff knee. Yes, the dishwasher keeps malfunctioning and the water won't drain properly," he explained. "I think it's actually the hose between the dishwasher and the rest of the plumbing that's clogged this time. Plus there's water under the sink, so one of the pipes must be leaking. It's a real irritation to Bunny, because you know how much she loves being in her kitchen."

Vegeta nodded. "I can see how that would be an annoyance," he agreed. "Can you fix it, or will you call for service?"

"I'd get down there and fix it myself, but my back is terrible today and I know I'd never get back up again," Dr. Briefs complained. "The last time I called for service they took forever to come out and did a lousy job."

"You'd think that they'd do an excellent job for someone like you so that you would retain their services," Vegeta mused.

Dr. Briefs nodded. "Indeed, but seeing as they are the only company in the area who fixes industrial equipment like this, they can pretty much do what they want. Bunny's pretty upset about it and I can completely see why."

"Hmmm..." Vegeta peered at the disobedient appliance objectively. "Let me take a look at it," he offered.

Dr. Briefs shrugged, although he was a little surprised that the Saiyan would offer. "Sure, if you'd like."

Vegeta removed his shirt and tossed it over a kitchen chair, leaving him clad in only a pair of his infamous training shorts, and wriggled into the false cupboard space underneath the sink. "Oh, yeah," he agreed. "You've definitely got a bad leak going on here."

"Let me get you a flashlight," Dr. Briefs offered.

"No, that's not necessary," Vegeta declined. "Saiyans can see well in the dark, and if I need more light I can use my ki."

_Smart boy._ "All right," Dr. Briefs agreed. "What can I do?"

"Run the water just a little so I can see where exactly the leak is coming from," Vegeta instructed. "Okay, I see it. Go ahead and shut it off."

* * *

Mrs. Briefs walked into her kitchen to see her husband peering under the sink, where someone else was busy at work. "Oh, I didn't know that you had already called a repairman, Dear. How nice that someone could come out so quickly!" she exclaimed happily.

Dr. Briefs looked up at his wife with an amused smile. Obviously it hadn't occurred to her that a repairman wouldn't be barefoot and wearing spandex shorts, but then again, he hadn't expected Vegeta to volunteer his services either. "No, I didn't call anyone, Bunny. Vegeta offered to take a look for me."

Mrs. Briefs' eyes went wide with surprise. "Vegeta? I didn't know you knew how to fix plumbing!"

"Not really," Vegeta responded from under the sink, "but I only snaked the pipes out and replaced a bad joint. Besides, if your kitchen doesn't work the way it should, then I don't get to eat one of your tasty dinners, right?" he said with a low chuckle.

Mrs. Briefs burst out into peals of giggles. "Oh, my, what a sweet young man you are! I'll have to cook a nice turkey dinner for you tonight," she declared, knowing very well that Vegeta was quite fond of turkey dinner.

"With sausage and apple stuffing?" came the hopeful response.

"Oh, yes! All the trimmings, and pie," she crooned.

"Aww, Bunny, I take back every rotten thing I never said about you," Vegeta joked, making her giggle.

"Vegeta, you're so silly!" She giggled again. "Would you like pumpkin or Dutch apple pie?"

Vegeta's stomach rumbled loudly. "You mean I have to pick? Hmmm... surprise me," he decided, setting a wrench on the floor next to his leg.

"I'll make both, then," Mrs. Briefs decided.

"Sounds good to me. Let's give this a test run," Vegeta decided. "Could one of you turn on the water?"

"No problem." Dr. Briefs did as Vegeta had asked. "How does it look?"

"So far, so good," he announced.

"Thank you, Vegeta! But it's almost too bad," Mrs. Briefs mused. "If it couldn't be fixed, I could have gotten the newest model."

"Bunny, just _tell_ me these things," Dr. Briefs chastised gently. "Pay her no mind, Son." He went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.

"What? Are you saying to just tell you these things and I'll get a new one? Hmm, I'll remember that the next time the GR breaks, Dad," Vegeta joked playfully. This actually wasn't all that bad.

* * *

"Let's see if Grandma or Daddy can watch you while Mama goes to her meeting," Bulma cooed as she picked up her infant son. "Maybe Grandma is making breakfast. We'll go take a look."

She headed for the kitchen, hearing voices and laughing as she got closer.

"What? Are you saying to just tell you these things and I'll get a new one? Hmm, I'll remember that the next time the GR breaks, Dad," she heard Vegeta say, eliciting laughter from her parents.

She stopped dead in her tracks just outside the doorway, not having heard her father's earlier 'Son' comment and therefore not catching on that Vegeta was joking around with her father. _Dad?_ _Wait- is Vegeta fixing the kitchen sink?_ she thought with utter astonishment.

Presently a loud, violent sounding sneeze came from under the sink, followed by an even worse sounding thud and a groan.

"Vegeta, what happened?" Mrs. Briefs asked worriedly. "Did you hit your head, Dear?"

"Yes, on the pipe I just fixed, of course," Vegeta groaned. "It's musty down here from the water and when I sneezed, I sat up part way from the reflex... _aaauuugh!_ Quick, Shatsu, turn it off! Turn it off!" he yelped as water began to spray from the pipe he had bumped his head against. He tensed at the shock of the frigid water hitting him, and his legs, which had been bent at the knees, shot straight out in front of him from underneath the sink.

"Oh! Vegeta, so sorry about that," Dr. Briefs exclaimed, hastily picking his way across the tools and various pieces of plumbing materials on the floor and turning off the sink.

"K-Kami, that's_ c-cold!"_ Vegeta wriggled out from under the sink, completely drenched and dripping, his long hair plastered to his head. He shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands. "Oh, well. I suppose I could use a shower anyway..." He trailed off when he saw Bulma standing in the doorway with their son. "Bulma..." His cheeks reddened when he saw the expression on her face, the look in her eyes.

Bulma was having quite a bit of trouble keeping her thoughts chaste and her eyes off of the wet, dripping physique of her former lover. He had bulked up considerably since coming to Earth and even more so since he'd left to train in space. Unconsciously, she sucked in her breath and licked her lips as her eyes burned a searing hot path down his body and back up again.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs exchanged a look as their daughter openly gawked lustfully at Vegeta, unaware that she was even doing it. Maybe there was hope for the two of them yet.

Suddenly Bulma blinked and shook her head slightly, snapping out of her stupor. "I, uhm..." Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized how she had been behaving. _But he's so Kami damned _hot! her mind shrieked. _But I have a boyfriend..._ "I have a meeting..." She shifted her squirming son in her arms.

She looked at Vegeta again to find him staring intently at her. Her heart caught in her chest as he stepped toward her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Bulma, don't worry about it," he told her softly, "in either sense." He held out his hands. "Vegeta, why don't you come take a bath with Daddy, smelly boy?" he asked his son, chuckling softly when the baby babbled happily and reached out to him.

"I..." Bulma bit her lip as she handed him their son. "Thanks, Vegeta."

"Likewise," he murmured in her ear, giving her that knee weakening grin. "Any time, Princess." He kissed her cheek and headed for the door. "I apologize for the mess, Bunny. I'll get some towels to clean it up."

Mrs. Briefs waved him off. "Oh, that's all right, Dear. I'll take care of it. You take care of my darling little grandson."

Vegeta nodded. "When I am through bathing my son, I'll repair the pipe. The damage isn't all that severe." He gave her a lopsided smile. "I got a pretty good look while I was down there."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "Oh, Vegeta! You really are too silly!" She watched him go, then turned to her daughter. "You seemed a little distracted for a moment there, Bulma," she commented.

"Yes, just a little," Dr. Briefs agreed, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "I'll be in the lab if you need me." He grabbed his coffee and left the kitchen.

"You're so quiet, Dear. Is there something on your mind you'd like to talk about?" Mrs. Briefs asked innocently.

Bulma turned beet red. "I have to go, Mom. I have a meeting."

"Yes, I know. Drive carefully, Sweetie. You're very distracted right now." Mrs. Briefs gave her daughter a knowing little smile. "Quite the masterpiece, isn't he? And such a sweet young man, too."

Bulma somehow managed to turn even redder. "Mom! I'm with Hiroshi! Why are you doing this?"

"Just 'with' him? How sad." Mrs. Briefs poured some tea into her cup and turned back to Bulma. "I've never seen you look at him, or even Yamcha for that matter, the way you just lusted after Vegeta."

Bulma groaned and hid her face in her hands. "I wasn't lusting after him, Mom! I was just... I mean, I..." Her mother was just two darn perceptive, much more so than she let on most of the time.

"Whatever you say." Mrs. Briefs kissed her daughter on the cheek. "There are fresh cinnamon rolls in the oven if you'd like to take one with you." She shifted several items in her storage pantry and sighed. "Now, where _is_ that pesky mop?"

"No thanks, Mom," Bulma responded, grabbing her purse. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dear. Have a good meeting." She leaned back against the counter and watched Bulma rush for the door. "_Quite_ the masterpiece," she repeated thoughtfully, giggling to herself and sipping at her tea.

* * *

Vegeta waited as the connection was established. Anya had e-mailed him and told him to log on at this time and so here he was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, the laptop Mrs. Briefs had insisted on buying him perched on his lap.

"Hey, Pops!" came Anya's jovial voice from the computer. "You figured out the web cam, I see." She giggled when he rolled his eyes.

"Hmph. You act as if I'm a technological invalid or something like that," he grumbled.

She could tell he wasn't irritated with her. "Nah, not at all." Anya smiled at him. "I know you've got a techie side to you, you nerd." She giggled.

Vegeta shook his head. Such a free spirit she was. He couldn't help but feel a little envious. "We got your postcard," he commented. "Enjoying your trip, then?"

"Oh yeah," Anya agreed, brightening immediately. "There's so much to do here and we have a ton of pictures and souvenirs. We've just _got_ to all go together sometime." Her eyebrow rose. "You could use a little stress relief yourself, Pops."

Ugh, stress relief. He'd had enough of trying for _that_ of late. "We'll see," he told her non-commitally.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," she insisted. "So... how are things around there?"

Vegeta sighed. "Do you mean, does my life still suck as much as usual, or how is everyone else?"

Anya tilted her head in a non-verbal plea, a frown on her face. "Pops..."

Vegeta sighed again. "I'm sorry, Anya. I didn't want to bring you down on your trip."

"You haven't," she assured him. "But it's amazing how attached you can become to someone when you've only been away a few days. I just wanted to say hi."

Vegeta let out a little smile. "You're a good woman, Anya," he told her softly. "My son is a lucky man."

She returned the smile. "Thanks, Pops." She paused. "Is Vegeta around?"

Vegeta shook his head. "He's napping right now. Did you want me to wake him up?"

"Oh, no, don't do that," Anya objected. "He gets cranky if he doesn't get his nap. Just tell him that Mama said hello and sends hugs and kisses."

"Will do." Vegeta chuckled.

"Hey, Bunny told you about my birthday party, didn't she?" Anya asked. "You'd better be there, and I want a good present, too," she demanded playfully.

"Yes, Bunny told me about your party," Vegeta assured her, "and I already have your present all wrapped up and not exactly hidden on the floor in my closet. I wouldn't miss it."

She giggled. "Good." She dropped her eyes and her smile faded a little.

"Anya? What's wrong?" Vegeta asked, concerned. "You went from happy to sad just like that."

"I'm all right, Pops," she responded with a shaky little smile. "I just can't help but think about how different things could have been had I been able to warn my mother, that's all."

"I'm sorry, Anya," he told her sincerely. "I wish I could be someone different, if only to be able to contact your father for you."

Anya sniffled. "I know you would if you could," she told him. "Please don't feel badly about it. I'll be okay. Really."

Vegeta didn't really know how to respond to the suddenly awkward situation. "I know you will. You're one of the strongest people I know," he heard himself saying.

"Thanks, Pops," she whispered. "I should go. I told Geta I'd only be a few minutes and we have to board the ship again soon."

"All right," he told her. "Give him my regards and get some rest."

"You too. You train too hard." She smiled at him. "I love you, Pops." Before he could respond, she closed the connection.

Vegeta sighed and shut the laptop. He truly wished he could help her. He would gladly go there if he had sufficient travel time, but Gerdia was far away, too far even for Dr. Briefs' fastest ship. Unless he could physically be there and request an audience with her father, he'd never get through to him, even if he attempted to place a communicade.

He'd thought about having Anya attempt to locate her father's ki and teleport them to him, but even if she was able to accomplish it, he knew such an action would _not_ fare well for either of them. _No one_ entered the king's presence without having been summoned first. It could mean death, since the king's guard would view his safety as be compromised- especially considering just who Vegeta was to them, a bloodthirsty, dangerous Saiyan. He and Anya would likely both be executed on the spot.

Still, there had to be something he could do. What was the Earth expression he'd heard? Ah, yes. Where there's a will, there's a way.

Vegeta placed two fingers to his forehead and teleported to the labs. The computers there displayed information primarily in Western Standard, but there _was_ one there that he'd be able to understand perfectly.

"Hey Vegeta." Bulma set down her screwdriver as he wandered into her lab. "What's up?"

"I need to borrow the scouter you have," he told her. "I want to look up some information that I might be able to find using it more easily than on your computers." Not to mention, the information he wanted might not even _be_ in her database.

"Oh." Bulma reached into her lab coat pocket for the key she needed and went over to a cabinet to unlock it. "Sure. Here you go." She handed him the scouter. "What are you looking for?"

He shrugged. "Just curious about something. If I find anything of interest, I'll let you know." He winked at her before leaving the lab.

Bulma caught herself blushing at the naughty little smirk and flirtatious wink he'd tossed her way. Damn it. Why now, of all times? She shook her head and went back to work. How hot he'd looked when he'd done it wasn't what she needed to be thinking about right then and there.

* * *

Vegeta examined the scouter's star chart carefully for something, anything that might aid him. His eyes fell upon a planet about a week's journey away from Gerdia. His eyebrow rose; he hadn't expected to find a neighboring planet. He queried the scouter, and gasped in astonishment when he realized which planet it was. A shiver of excitement rushed over him. This was it! _This_ was the answer he'd been looking for!

"Yardrat..."


	17. Chapter 17

AN: This chapter is for Rihannon, since you did guess what Vegeta was plotting. Now I present to you the parts you couldn't have guessed. :) Thanks to everyone who has left reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think.

I know nothing about Goku's friends. I am making it all up for the purpose of this story. What friends, you ask? Read on!

You will see mention of Geta's middle name for the first time in this chapter. It was given to him in tribute of a fellow inventor whose contributions to the scientific world Bulma appreciates and admires. Any guesses?

Special thanks to my hubby for reading this for me, although he still thinks that the whole time travel thing and Geta and VJ being in the same place should cause a paradox. :)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Chi-Chi put down her duster when she heard a knock at the front door. "Now, who could that be?" she murmured to herself. Opening the door, she found herself a little surprised by who was standing at the other side. "Oh. Hello, Vegeta."

Vegeta nodded politely in response. "Is Kakarrot busy right now? I'm here to deliver his ass kicking."

A slow smile spread over Chi-Chi's face. "Oh my stars, Vegeta making a joke," she commented with amusement. "Come on in and I'll get him."

Vegeta stepped inside the house and slipped his boots off onto a mat by the door. "Who's joking?" he asked in all seriousness.

She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Kakarrot may be able to beat me in a fight as you pointed out to me," Vegeta told her, noting her embarrassment, "but perhaps his heart is not as golden as you think, at least where you are concerned." He drew in a deep breath. "I know you care for him, but Bulma once cared for me, and look at where I am now."

Chi-Chi understood what he meant- that Vegeta didn't want to see her husband to make the same mistakes by neglecting her as he had with Bulma. She bit at her lip. "Vegeta, I... I don't know what to say," she admitted.

Vegeta shrugged. "You don't need to say anything," he told her quietly. "In fact, don't mention that I said anything to you at all."

She nodded, and he could see the conflict warring in her mind on her face. He was right, more than she cared to admit. "I'll go get him, although I'm sure he already knows you're here," she said. "Thanks, Vegeta. Have some coffee while you wait."

He nodded again and went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup. Coffee did sound good right then. He wandered back out to the living room and examined the pictures on the walls. He couldn't help but feel wistful. The little family looked happy together, unlike what he'd done to his life.

"Vegeta."

He looked away from the picture to his fellow Saiyan. "Kakarrot."

"I have a bone to pick with you," Goku told him irritably as he crossed his arms over his chest. Bulma had convinced him to take a couple days to cool off before what she knew would be the inevitable confrontation with Vegeta.

Vegeta grunted in response. "That's why I'm here." He took a gulp of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Goku's.

Goku stared at him a moment longer. "Fine. I'll get my boots."

Vegeta finished his coffee and put his cup in the sink as Goku put on his boots before following suit. The two men left the house in silence and took to the air to go to one of their favorite sparring spots.

"Look, Kakarrot," Vegeta began as they touched down, "I didn't come here to spar with you."

"That's too bad for you, because you really embarrassed me and I'd like nothing better than to beat it out of you," Goku retorted. "How dare you dance with my wife like that in front of everybody?"

"How dare _you_ not quit stuffing your big fat face long enough to dance with her yourself?" Vegeta retorted. "I'll have you know that not only was it her idea, but she said it was the most enjoyment she'd had in quite a while."

Goku gaped at him, stunned. He had no idea that any of it was Chi-Chi's doing and was at a loss as to what to say in response. "I..."

"She came over to me to scold me for sulking at Geta's wedding," Vegeta told him. "At first I didn't want to hear what she had to say, but she got my attention when she mentioned hating Hiroshi. We were discussing it when we realized that we were standing right in the middle of the dance floor. So she insisted that we dance like everyone else was while we talked. I could tell that she was hurt at your refusal to dance with her, so I obliged her when she asked if we could finish the dance." He took a turn at crossing his arms and looking irritable.

Goku, on the other hand, looked embarrassed. Vegeta had simply made Chi-Chi happy by doing something that he hadn't done himself for his own wife. "I don't know how to dance," he mumbled.

"Then learn. She indicated to me that she has asked you to take lessons on more than one occasion. Why did you not do so?" Vegeta continued.

"I don't know," Goku admitted. "But you never danced with Bulma, either. What makes you think you have the right to pick on me?"

"Kakarrot, do you love your wife?"

Goku was surprised by the prince's question. "Of course I do. I love her very much."

"Then don't make the same mistakes that I did," Vegeta told him quietly. "Bulma loved me once, and I took her for granted. It wouldn't have killed me to spend a little time with her and take her dancing or whatever she wanted to do, but I didn't. Now she loves someone else who does do those sorts of things for her, and _I'm_ in the doghouse."

Goku mulled this over. He could see how hurt and depressed Vegeta was by how he'd treated Bulma. He wasn't about to go into whether Bulma loved him or Hiroshi. That was none of his business. But he could see what Vegeta was trying to tell him. "I guess I never thought about it like that. Have I really made Chi-Chi unhappy?"

The downtrodden expression on Goku's face actually struck a chord in Vegeta's heart. "Your wife cares for you very much," he told him. "But she feels neglected in certain areas. She would like to spend some more time with you doing things that _she_ enjoys. And based on her response to that tango she and I danced, I'd wager she wouldn't mind getting laid a little more often as well."

Goku's mouth opened in shock at Vegeta's last statement. "That's none of your business!" he sputtered, his face going red.

"Perhaps not, but I tell you that if you go back to that house right now and ravage her like the Saiyan you are, she won't insist that she has housework to do or care that the boy might hear," Vegeta told him. "Go on, I dare you to do it."

Goku's lips pursed together in embarrassed irritation. "What was up with that, too? Dancing is one thing, but why would you dance with _my_ wife like _that_ and smirk at me the entire time?"

Vegeta shrugged. "As I said, take some lessons. She enjoyed it, and I got to tick you off." The smirk reappeared. "Get the job done yourself if you don't like someone else doing it. Did you truly expect her to sit there by herself all night while you gorged yourself on hors d'oeuvres?"

Goku sighed. Vegeta was right. "Vegeta?"

"What?"

"Will you teach me?"

"What?"

"To dance."

"Hell, no!" Vegeta retorted, taking a step back. "There are professional instructors who are hired for such things, not me."

Goku shuffled a little uncomfortably. "I... Chi-Chi's really been scrimping right now because it's been tough making ends meet lately. I want to make her happy, but I couldn't spend money on dancing lessons when she's been working so hard to save it."

Vegeta took a turn sighing. "If I arrange for you to get lessons, will you go?"

Goku brightened. "You'd really take me?" he exclaimed excitedly.

"No," Vegeta growled. "You can go by yourself, or are you that much of a child? No wonder your wife feels neglected."

Goku scowled at him. "Are you done making fun of me yet or are we gonna spar?"

Vegeta smirked some more. He'd better cool it if he wanted any favors out of this. "Yeah yeah, I'm done. But I need you to do something for me."

Goku tipped his head thoughtfully. Vegeta sure was acting weird. "What?"

Vegeta took in a deep breath. "Did you become friends with anyone on Yardrat?" he asked.

"Oh sure, I made lots of friends," Goku responded cheerfully.

"But was there someone in particular? Someone whose ki you think you could find if you really tried?" Vegeta pressed further.

Goku didn't understand Vegeta's questioning but answered anyway. "Sure, my friend Soba. Why?"

"Could you find him right now?"

Goku frowned. "Vegeta, I don't get why you're asking me this."

"Just try. Can you sense him now?"

Goku paused. "Gotta find the right part of the universe. Let's see... yes, he's sleeping."

Vegeta closed his eyes and let out his breath. This just might work. "Could you take me to him?"

"Okay, Vegeta. You're acting really weird. Why are you asking me all of this?" Goku demanded.

"Because I just discovered that Yardrat is a week's journey from Gerdia, and if you can get me to Yardrat I might be able to travel to Gerdia in time to warn Anya's father that his wife is going to die giving birth to Anya," he explained. "Anya always wished she could have known her mother, and I know she feels guilt over her death. She's a good girl and she deserves for me to at least try, don't you think?"

That hadn't been what Goku had been expecting at all. "Wow, Vegeta. That's really cool," he told him. "Sure, I'll take you if Bulma or her dad can get you a ship. But you've gotta hurry, because you only have a little more than a week."

"I know," Vegeta acknowledged. "Thank you, Kakarrot."

"You're welcome, Vegeta. I'm glad I could help. I really hope that Anya's mom will be okay," Goku responded cheerfully.

"As do I," Vegeta agreed. "Do you have a senzu bean? I don't have any I can give to Anya's father."

Goku rubbed at the back of his head. "I might be able to get one from Korin," he mused. "He didn't have any when you got hurt, but he might have some by now."

Vegeta nodded. "I must have one, or else this trip will be all for nothing."

"Okay. I'll go talk to Korin, and you go see if you can get a ship." Goku waved as he flew the direction of Korin's tower.

* * *

"Bulma, I need to ask a favor." Vegeta held the scouter he'd borrowed out to Bulma.

"Oh yeah? Did you find anything interesting on the scouter?" Bulma asked, accepting it back from him.

"Yes, I did, hence my need of your assistance," he acknowledged. "But you must promise that you won't become angry when you hear what I have to ask."

Her eyebrow rose. "Okay. What is it?"

"I need a ship." Vegeta steeled himself for the tirade he was expecting would happen next.

Bulma's face fell instead. "But... You're leaving?" she asked quietly.

Vegeta could hear the hurt in her voice. "Bulma, I swear to you that as long as all goes well, I will return," he promised. "I need the ship to travel to Gerdia."

Her hurt melted into confusion. "But, Gerdia's so far away. How would you ever make it there in time?"

"I found Gerdia on the scouter's star charts. It's a week's travel from Yardrat." He waited for her reaction.

Bulma's eyes widened as she realized what he had in mind. "You're saying that since he's been there, if you could get Goku to teleport you to Yardrat..."

"I could make the journey to Gerdia in the ship," Vegeta finished. "If I leave today, I should be able to make it just in time to warn Anya's father."

Bulma's face brightened. "Vegeta, that's fantastic!" she exclaimed. "I should be able to get a ship ready in a couple of hours."

Vegeta nodded. "There is something I must do before I leave anyway. I will be missing Anya's party, and I want to get her gift together before I go."

Bulma's face fell a little. "Oh. Yeah, I guess you would miss the party," she acknowledged. "But I'm sure she'd agree that it's for a good reason."

Vegeta shook his head. "No, you must not tell anyone where I'm going or what I'm doing," he objected. "Remember, the Saiyans tried to purge Gerdia years ago and I will undoubtedly receive a bad reception upon my arrival. If this trip doesn't work out in my favor, I don't want Anya feeling guilt over it."

Understanding flooded over Bulma's face. "Oh," she murmured. "I guess I can see why you'd say that."

She looked so sad all of a sudden. "Don't worry, Bulma. I'll do my best, you know that. Besides, a positive outcome would be a nice surprise for Anya."

Bulma managed a smile. "Yes, it will," she agreed. _But how will I explain if things don't work out as planned?_

"You must promise not to divulge where I have gone to anyone, as must Kakarrot. I don't need Anya and Geta partaking in any foolish stunts if anything goes wrong," Vegeta told her, as if reading her thoughts. He grasped her hands gently to get her attention. "Promise me, Bulma."

Bulma bit at her lip but nodded. "I promise." Vegeta wouldn't have stuck his neck out like this even a year ago. The possibility of him doing something so selfless and being punished for it disturbed her deeply.

"Good." Vegeta could see the worry in her eyes. "I'll be careful, I promise." He gave her hands a quick little squeeze and let them go.

"I know," she murmured as he left the lab. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling very alone as she did so.

* * *

"Here you go, Vegeta. There weren't many beans on the plant, but I got you two of them," Goku announced as he held out a little bag.

Vegeta nodded his thanks and accepted the bag. "Is everything all set with the ship, Bulma?"

"Yes, you're all fueled up and there are plenty of supplies on board." Bulma handed him a capsule. "All ready to go."

"Thanks." Vegeta accepted the capsule and put it into his pocket.

"Ready?" Goku placed a hand on Vegeta's shoulder, his fingers poised to leave.

Vegeta's eyes met Bulma's one last time. If the king didn't like what he had to say, he might never look at her again. He might never have another chance to say what needed to be said. Moving out from under Goku's hand, he closed the gap between Bulma and himself. "Bulma, I... If things go badly, I just..." He drew in a deep breath. Goku was in the room, which made a difficult thing even harder to do. "I..."

Her eyes had grown a little shiny as he struggled over his words. "Be careful and come home safe, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he promised. They stood in silence for a moment. _Hell with it._ Vegeta tipped up her chin and kissed her before quickly turning away and walking back over to Goku. "Let's go," he muttered uncomfortably.

"Okay." Goku wisely remained silent about what he'd just witnessed and placed his fingers on his forehead. He felt sorry for both of them, Vegeta because he was sorry for how he treated Bulma and still loved her, and Bulma because she wasn't mad anymore and was confused about what to do. No matter what excuses she made, he knew that Bulma still loved Vegeta too, but she was too involved with her new boyfriend to do anything about it.

Bulma sat down heavily onto her chair. A tear slid down her cheek. She could still see the look in Vegeta's eyes, hear his voice as he struggled to say what was on his mind. There was no point in denying what the pain wrenching her heart meant. If he didn't come home safe, she had no idea what she'd do.

* * *

"Okay, here we are!" Goku said happily as they reappeared. "Hi, Soba! Oh. Oops..."

The female Yardratian with Soba shrieked in startled embarrassment as Soba grabbed the covers of the bed they were in and yanked them over them.

"Goku? What are you doing here?" Soba demanded. "Couldn't you have contacted me first? And quit staring at my wife!"

"Oops, sorry- hey! Ow, stop it, Vegeta," Goku whined. The prince had immediately turned his back on the couple and attempted to discreetly leave the room but returned when it appeared that his clueless subject hadn't gotten the point. He'd reached up to grab the younger man by the ear and yank him along. "Leggo, that hurts!"

"My apologies, Soba." Vegeta shoved Goku through the nearest doorway and shut the door. "That was embarrassing, you fool. Don't complain if someone else who knows how to teleport decides not to check what you're doing before they pop in on you," he growled. Walking in on two pink-skinned, bug-eyed aliens getting it on wasn't exactly his idea of an ideal entrance.

"I'm sorry," Goku said remorsefully.

Vegeta snorted. "Don't tell me that," he retorted. "When he comes out, tell him." He made his way through the house and exited it.

Goku followed him. "Are you leaving right away?"

"Of course. Even if I didn't have to, do you really think I want to face your friend later?" Vegeta sighed at the guilty expression on the younger man's face. "I have to go, all right? Don't forget, not a word to anyone, got it?"

"I won't say anything," Goku repeated.

"Good." Vegeta popped open the capsule containing his ship and opened the hatch. Partway up the ramp, he paused and looked back down at Goku. "Kakarrot? If I don't come back..."

Goku nodded. "I'll take care of her," he finished.

* * *

Anya and Geta appeared in the kitchen. "Hey, we're back. Anyone home?" Geta called out. He winked at his wife, making her giggle. He knew that people were home, but it was more fun the dramatic way.

Momentarily the door opened and Mrs. Briefs bustled in. "Hello, dearies," she exclaimed. She latched onto them, giving each of them a hug and kiss. "Did you have a good time?"

"We had a _fantastic_ time," Anya told her. "We'd like to do it again sometime. We should all go."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Mrs. Briefs agreed. "Come on into the den and tell us about your trip. We're watching a movie, but I'd much rather see your pictures."

Geta nodded. "Let's go."

Mrs. Briefs herded them into the den. "Anya and Geta are back," she announced. "They're going to show us their pictures and tell us about their trip."

"Oh, good. I'd love to hear all about it," Dr. Briefs said, rising from his seat to give them hugs.

"Me too," Bulma agreed, following suit.

The young couple sat down on the loveseat. "Where are Pops and the kids?" she asked. "Did he take them out?"

"No, I can sense the kids in the nursery, asleep," Geta told his wife. "Did Father go out?" Given Vegeta's behavior of late, it wouldn't strike him as unusual.

Bulma shifted a little uncomfortably. "Actually, no. Something came up that he had to take care of right away, so he's not here."

"Not here?" Anya echoed. "Will he be back soon?"

Bulma looked over at her parents, who appeared equally uncomfortable. Bulma hadn't told them where Vegeta had gone and they had respected his wishes, but they knew that Anya was very much looking forward to him being at her party and that she would be hurt by his absence. "No, he's off planet, Sweetie," Bulma told her gently.

Anya frowned in confusion. "Off planet? Where would he go?"

Bulma phrased her words carefully. "It was something personal that he needed to do," she explained. "He didn't want to involve anyone else, so he asked that no one know about the details."

"But you know," Geta spoke up. "He told you."

Bulma sighed. "He asked me for the ship and, yes, told me why he needed it. I can't say I'm entirely comfortable with him leaving, but I do understand how important what he needs to do is to him."

"He won't be home for my party, will he?" Anya asked quietly.

Bulma felt her heart twist at the disappointed look on Anya's face. "No, Sweetie. I'm sorry," she said. "He wanted you to know that he feels terribly about that. He asked me to give you a note he wrote for you. I put it on your dresser."

Anya nodded and got to her feet. "Thanks, Bulma. I think I'll go rest for a little bit, if you'll all excuse me."

"I was afraid of this. She's so disappointed, the poor darling," Mrs. Briefs mused once Anya had left the room.

Bulma nodded. "I feel bad, because I didn't want to tell her like this right after you two got home," she murmured.

"I'll give her a few minutes and go talk to her." Geta got up from his seat. "She'll be all right."

* * *

Anya picked up the envelope on her dresser and opened it. She unfolded the paper inside and dabbed at her eyes. She hadn't thought that she would cry over this, but hadn't realized just how much the anticipation of her father-in-law's presence at her party had meant to her until now. She sat down on the bed to read what Vegeta had written. He'd obviously wanted it to be private, because it was written in the characters of her mother tongue.

_Anya,_

_I know I said I would attend your party and I truly intended to. I am very regretful that I now find myself unable to do so. It is a weak excuse at best, but the only explanation I can provide to you right now is that an important matter of a personal nature has arisen, one that I have no choice other than to see to immediately. I hope that you will understand and forgive my absence during this special time for you. I promise you that I will explain everything upon my return and will make it up to you._

_You know how reserved I am with my expressions to others, but I feel compelled to tell you that I have come to very much enjoy having you as my daughter, and that you have made a place in my heart unlike that which anyone else could ever have. Please don't cry. I will be home soon._

_Fondly,_

_Pops_

Anya began to cry harder. She'd never expected such sentiment from him. He had taken the time to personally write her a note, in which he'd called her not his daughter-in-law, but his daughter. She loved him like the father he'd become to her; how could she be upset at him for taking care of something important? She folded the letter back up and put it in her drawer, knowing that it was something she would always treasure.

* * *

Finally. After a week alone in the ship with only his thoughts to keep him company, the planet he sought was finally in sight, and right on time, too. He was absolutely itching to get out of the ship and do what needed to be done.

A tone sounded from the ship's console, signifying that he had been detected and that someone from the planet was attempting to hail him. Vegeta pushed a button to answer it.

^Unidentified space craft, state your name and business here,^ a voice crackled authoritatively.

Vegeta resisted the urge to tell the man where to go. He couldn't screw this up. ^I seek an audience with King Herrón,^ he responded.

^No one is granted an audience to the king unless he has been summoned!^ the man snapped. ^Who is this?^

^I am Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans.^ Vegeta's voice was little more than a monotone.

The other end of the communicade was silent for a moment. ^Unidentified space craft, prepare to receive a request for visual confirmation.^

^Hmph.^ Vegeta shrugged. ^Suit yourself.^

The vid screen flashed with the incoming communications request. He casually flipped a switch, accepting it. ^Is this confirmation enough for you?^ Vegeta leaned back in his chair and regarded the sender of the request with a look of complete indifference.

The man at the other end was unable to hold back a little choking noise. ^S-state your business with the king,^ he demanded in as calm of a voice as possible.

_Everyone_ here knew exactly what Saiyans were capable of.

_None_ of them wanted to see it for themselves.

This situation was most especially the case since there was no mistaking that this one was who he claimed to be. It was well known that the Saiyans bred their royalty with the foretold 'Legendary' Super Saiyan in mind, which made them even stronger than the rest of the Elites.

^What was that?^ Vegeta demanded angrily. He thought about mentioning the fact that he could indeed destroy the impertinent brat's planet without breaking a sweat but decided that if he actually wanted _access_ to the king it wouldn't be the most appropriate of ideas. ^Perhaps I did not hear you correctly?^

The man made a gesture to someone else in the room. ^Go!^ he hissed. ^Your Highness, may we relate to the king the reason for your-^

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. ^My business with King Herrón is of a personal nature and therefore none of your concern,^ he interrupted tersely. ^Now, tell me where I will be docking my craft, before I become angry.^

^My apologies, M'lord… Let's see, where is there an available dock?^ The man fumbled around nervously, obviously unable to find the information he was looking for.

_Oh, for Kami's sake!_ Vegeta reached out to the distracted and flustered man's mind. He smirked; this one was weak minded enough that he'd made the task easy. :Gotcha.:

The man twitched, confirming that Vegeta had indeed found the correct individual on a planet of billions. ^Wha-what?^

:Stay with me,: Vegeta ordered. :I'll be right there.: He got up from his seat and walked away, leaving the astonished man to stare at the screen blankly.

Another man rushed up behind him. ^Where did he go, Sir?^

^I haven't the faintest idea,^ the first man responded slowly. This was _not_ good.

Both men let out a shout of surprise as the communicade was suddenly severed. ^What happened?^

^I don't know, Sir. His craft completely disappeared from our radar!^ his subordinate announced, equally shaken.

^How is that possible? Nothing just disappears, Ensign! Locate him immediately!^ his superior ordered. ^I will not have His Majesty's safety compromised!^

^Calm down, I'm right here,^ a deep voice behind them growled.

Everyone in the room jumped and yelled in startlement.

^H-how-?^

^It's called instant transmission and I encapsulated my space craft.^ Vegeta leaned back against a computer console. ^Once I located your ki,^ he said, pointing to the startled superior officer, ^the rest was simple.^ He smiled, but it was not a reassuring one. ^Now, if you will show me to some appropriate quarters where I may retire until the king summons me?^

^Y-yes, Highness. Right away,^ the superior officer stammered.

Vegeta sighed. ^Don't you fools think that if I meant you harm this planet would be nothing but a cinder floating in space by now? Stop sniveling, would you?^

^My deepest of apologies, Your Highness,^ the officer responded, showing a measure of relief. ^Ensign, escort His Highness to the visitor's wing of the palace.^

^But, Sir, is that wise? After all-^

^Do _not_ question me, Ensign, unless you wish to be demoted to the lowest position available on this planet! Now go!^ the officer shouted.

^Right away, Sir!^ The Ensign leapt from his seat and saluted his superior, then turned to Vegeta and bowed deeply. ^If you would follow me please, M'lord, I will show you to some appropriate guest quarters.^

Vegeta grunted in acceptance and followed the young man. The things he did for those two. They'd damn well better appreciate this.

* * *

Vegeta's boots clicked with each step down the hallway to the throne room. He followed the king's attendant to a heavy door, which the man opened and stepped inside, indicating that Vegeta should follow. ^Your Majesty, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans.^ He bowed.

Vegeta dropped to one knee, head bowed and right fist over his heart, the left hand cupped over it, as was Gerdian custom to bow before the monarchy.

The king leaned forward on his throne. ^Rise, Prince Vegeta,^ he commanded.

Vegeta rose to his feet in silence.

^So, the legendary Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans stands before me,^ he mused, a measure of scorn coloring his voice. He narrowed his eyes. ^I was informed of your, shall I say, grand entrance earlier this afternoon.^

^A regretful necessity, Majesty,^ Vegeta responded dryly. ^Your subordinates did not have an available landing dock for me to utilize. Fortunately for me, Saiyans can survive the ravages of space for as long as we can hold our breaths, so I was able to leave my craft, encapsulate it and teleport it and myself to Gerdia's surface.^

^Encapsulate?^ The king was obviously not familiar with this terminology.

Vegeta pulled the capsule containing the craft from his armor and held it out to the king. ^If I may, Majesty, I would advise that you _not_ push the button on the end. That would re-enlarge my space craft.^

The king examined the capsule. ^Hmph. Interesting.^ He handed it back to the prince and sat back on his throne. ^I assume you did not ask to speak with me regarding these capsules, Prince Vegeta.^

_Here we go. We'll see how he responds to this, which probably won't be well._ ^No, Majesty,^ Vegeta responded, ^I did not. Rather, I came to relay to you a message of danger to you and Gerdia-^

^You _threaten_ me, Saiyan?^ the king shouted, enraged.

^Not in the slightest, Majesty. Had I desired the demise of this planet, I would simply have destroyed it from space with but a flick of my wrist,^ Vegeta replied matter-of-factly. ^But as it is, I think that with the information I have to tell you, we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement between our two races and end this absurd conflict between us.^

^Absurd? _Absurd?_^ King Herrón looked positively furious. ^How _dare_ you call our resentfulness of the Saiyan race's murderous attempt to annihilate the Gerdian race absurd?^

^With all due respect, Majesty, my father did what he did for a reason, namely, the preservation of not only himself but the entire Saiyan populace. Regardless, it was not _I_ who ordered the attack on Gerdia, so why bear me ill will when I come to you in good faith with news of impending danger?^ Vegeta drew in a breath. ^Besides, the same evil creature behind the attack on Gerdia was personally responsible for the destruction of my planet and my entire race, with the exception of myself and one other Saiyan. Believe me when I say I share your justified indignation.^

The king's anger subsided slightly. ^So… Frieza _was_ responsible,^ he murmured, frowning. ^I would join with you in destroying him if I thought I could, but I know that we could never defeat him, even with our own unique abilities. Is there something else you had in mind?^

^Ah, but that is not what I came to speak with you about,^ Vegeta responded smoothly. ^First off, Frieza is dead, and by my own hand, no less.^

The king sat as far forward on his throne as possible. ^You defeated Frieza?^ he gasped.

A crooked smile made its way across the Saiyan prince's face. ^Not exactly, Majesty, although I was given the honor of delivering the death stroke to that despicable lizard. But rest assured, he was defeated by Saiyan hands.^

^Would that be those of the other Saiyan of whom you earlier spoke?^ the king inquired, interested.

^No. Actually, it was the one who gave me the information which I came to relate to you,^ Vegeta answered, intentionally keeping his response cryptic. ^I have an offer for you, Majesty. But first, I wish to inquire of the health of Her Majesty the Queen.^

The king's eyebrow rose and he sat back on his throne, ramrod straight. ^What is this about?^ he demanded, his voice rising slightly.

^I am quite well aware of the queen's condition and that she will bear a daughter soon; tomorrow, in fact,^ Vegeta began.

The king's eyes narrowed. ^How would you know that, Prince Vegeta? Just what are you speaking of?^ he interrupted before Vegeta could continue.

Vegeta smiled. ^I am no seer, but I do know of many things, Majesty,^ he responded in a smooth tone of voice, ^including future events concerning the survival of the people of Gerdia, as I alluded to earlier. I have a son, Majesty, of approximately eight standard months of age. I will provide you all of this information if you swear to betroth your daughter to my son.^

The king's face went red with rage. ^Preposterous!^ he roared. ^First you come to me with threats against my kingdom and now you demand that I give my daughter to the son of a despicable, murderous Saiyan? Never will that happen!^

Vegeta's eyebrow rose and he crossed his arms over his chest. ^I understand your reluctance to this alliance, Majesty, but believe me when I say that it would be mutually beneficial to us both in more ways than merely political,^ he responded, forcing himself to remain calm. ^I also want to reassure you that I make no threat against you or your kingdom. I only sought an audience with Your Majesty to warn you of what has been told to me, and the source is reliable.^ He looked at the king expectantly.

King Herrón said nothing, but only pursed his lips and eyed Vegeta with a suspicious glower on his face.

_He doesn't seem at all convinced of what I'm saying. I suppose I should just bite the bullet and tell him. _Vegeta almost laughed at the thought. _Hopefully not _literally_..._

^Your Majesty, as far as the queen is concerned, be forewarned that not only will she bear a daughter tomorrow, but she will die from exhaustion and blood loss,^ Vegeta continued, noting the king's renewed outrage, ^_unless _you give her this after the child is born. It will save her life.^ He reached into his armor and produced a small bag containing a single senzu bean.

^Prince Vegeta, you test my patience,^ the king snarled. ^I should have you executed on the spot!^

^Do as you must,^ Vegeta responded, neither his voice nor his facial expression faltering in the slightest. ^But I am certain that you are not so unjust, Majesty, as to carry out your order without waiting to see whether or not I speak the truth,^ he challenged, meeting the king's eyes squarely. ^If I am lying, by my honor as the Prince of Saiyans I shall submit to your order for my execution without resistance.^

The king was visibly surprised by Vegeta's bold statement. Knowing a Saiyan's honor meant everything, the prince would never go back on his word. He obviously believed so much in what he was saying that he was risking his life to do so. _I don't know how it's possible or why he would do this, but perhaps there _is_ some truth to what he is saying._ ^Very well,^ he decided. ^Give me what is in your hand, Prince Vegeta.^

Vegeta complied immediately, inwardly relieved that the king had recognized the seriousness of his words. ^If you open the sack, Your Majesty, you will find what is called a senzu bean. They are only found on Earth and are extremely rare, especially so this past year. An injured person must eat the bean, which does have a rather unpleasant taste, but will immediately feel his body mending and his strength return. Give it to the queen once the child has been born and her health will be restored.^ He bowed respectfully.

The king was silent for a moment as he examined the small bean. He mulled over Vegeta's words. If they were indeed true, what _else_ would he tell him that would also be true? ^I will consider your words,^ he decided, ^and we shall see what comes of tomorrow. Meanwhile, my attendant will escort you to your quarters.^ He nodded to his attendant.

^Majesty.^ Vegeta bowed again before turning to leave with the servant. He knew exactly what this meant for him as a 'dangerous' individual- house arrest. ^Oh, by the way, M'lord,^ he said, turning back to address the astonished king, ^obviously you are aware that there is no possible way your guard could defeat me or even hold me captive. I am, however, a man of my word.^ He turned again and left the room.

The thud of the door shutting startled the king, bringing him back to coherent thought. He had been taken completely off guard by the sudden transformation to platinum blonde hair and piercing teal eyes of the prince before him.

* * *

^I'm sorry, Majesty, but there's nothing we can do for the queen,^ the terrified doctor informed his dumbfounded king. ^She sustained extensive soft tissue damage during the birth. We're... we're unable to stop the bleeding.^ He hung his head sadly. ^I'm so terribly sorry.^

_She will die from exhaustion and blood loss, unless you give her this after the child is born. It will save her life._

^No,^ he muttered.

^M'lord?^ The doctor looked over at the king with concern. ^M'lord, please allow me to-^

_^No!^_ the king shouted at the top of his lungs, running over to the bed where the unconscious queen lay. ^Out of my way, fools!^ he shouted, pushing several doctors aside.

One of the other doctors approached him. ^Majesty, there is nothing we can do-^

^Perhaps you cannot, but this will.^ He seemed to be reassuring himself of what he was saying more than anyone else in the room as he snatched the pouch Vegeta had given him from the folds of his garments.

Gerdian births tended to be mercifully short in contrast to the long, drawn out laboring of other races. By the time the king had been informed that the queen's labor had begun, he had missed the entire event and was now facing the very distinct possibility of the death of his wife.

He should have taken the Saiyan prince's words more seriously and stayed right at her side, even if it had indeed turned out that he was lying. He hadn't done that, and, when faced with the impending death of his wife, suddenly realized with great clarity just how much she really meant to him.

She was his heart, his soul, his reason for happiness. Without her, he would have nothing, _be_ nothing. He realized that now. He realized the folly of allowing foolish pride to blind his mental vision. He realized that because of it, he was about to lose her.

With shaking hands, Herrón, King of Gerdia, removed the little legume from its pouch and prayed to every deity he had ever heard of that it would do as the Saiyan prince had claimed it would. He lifted his wife up to a sitting position and tipped her head back with one hand, putting the bean in her mouth with the other. ^Come on, Evalina, swallow the bean...^ He didn't even notice the astonished stares of the medical staff in the room. ^Swallow the bean!^ He sat her up as straight as possible, clutching her against his chest in the hopes that it would help to get the bean on its way to her stomach. _^Please...^_

The room was absolutely silent as the king laid his still queen down onto the bed. Head bowed, he rested his forehead in one hand, struggling in a futile effort to control his grief. ^Why?^ he whispered, raising his face to the ceiling. _^Why?^_

^Ohh... M'lady,^ one of the nurses moaned, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mournful sobbing was joined by that of several others of the medical team.

^Ohh...^ The queen let out a low moan as she sat up, her brow furrowed and a hand on the side of her head. She looked up at her husband. ^Herrón? What happened?^

Shrieks of both fear and joy filled the room as the queen sat wide eyed, taking in the scene with utter confusion coloring her lovely face. She was about to speak when the king threw his arms around her, holding her close and kissing her hair as his own tears finally escaped to roll down his cheeks.

* * *

Vegeta stood at the window of his quarters, deep in thought. It was early afternoon, and he knew that they would be coming for him soon. Based on the cries of the servants he had heard, he figured that he probably wouldn't be going home again. Not alive, anyway.

Home. Was that truly how he felt about Earth? What, besides his son, was there that actually meant staying around was worthwhile?

Plenty.

Not that it mattered. She didn't love him anymore. He certainly wasn't going to stick around and watch the woman who was once his devoted mate carry on with that spineless worm who treated her poorly.

He was supposed to die anyway, wasn't he? At least he could find comfort in the fact that he had done something honorable before his death, which wouldn't be at the hands of mindless machines.

He thought back to the conversation he'd just had with Bulma. He'd asked for and been granted a single communication to Earth and had put in a call that could only be connected by her. He didn't need Geta or Anya knowing what was going on, or that he had failed, and that in all likeliness it was going to cost him.

_^Two minutes,^ the guard told him, indicating a communication console. Vegeta watched him step back in order to monitor the call, then stood in front of the console._

_

* * *

_

_"Mother, there's a private call coming in for you," Geta shouted. "Were you expecting one?"_

_"I thought one might come in, yes," Bulma responded, handing him VJ. "Thanks." She ushered Geta toward the door._

_"Is this call from Father about that business of his you said he needed to-"_

_Bulma kissed her sons' cheeks and continued to herd them out of the room. "Geta, you do understand what 'private' means, don't you Dear?"_

_Geta could see that his mother was not going to be any more forthcoming and sighed. "Yes, Ma'am, I do," he muttered stubbornly. "I'll go feed him."_

_"Thank you, Sweetheart." Bulma shut the door behind him, hoping that her voice had not revealed anything out of the ordinary. She didn't want to admit it, but she was worried about Vegeta. What if things hadn't gone well and he'd done something stupid like blast someone?_

_"I suppose I'll find out," she murmured to herself, entering her access code to accept the call. "Vegeta! You made it! Were you able to speak with the king yet?"_

_Vegeta nodded. "Yes, I was."_

_Bulma frowned. "And?" She wondered why she was having to prompt the man for details._

_Vegeta held up his hands in front of the video screen. Around his wrists were two bands. "It isn't going well."_

_"Oh, no! Vegeta, what are those things?" Bulma asked worriedly._

_"They suppress my ki," he responded in a tired voice. He looked equally exhausted._

_"But... but, why?" she exclaimed. "You went there to warn them of danger, not to threaten them. Surely they can see the difference," she objected._

_"You and I both know that's true, but look at it from their perspective. I am the Prince of Saiyans, the race who attempted to purge their planet before I was even born," Vegeta explained. "All Frieza's orders, of course. As you know, fortunately for the Gerdians the attack failed, but not without a tremendous loss of life. Add to this the fact that I am personally well known throughout the universe as a heartless, cold-blooded mass murderer, and you can easily see why I'm not a very popular guy around here to start off with."_

_He met her clear blue eyes with his deep black ones. "Telling the king that I know for a fact that his wife will die in childbirth unless he does what I told him to didn't quite sit well with him, either. In fact, he was so angry that I thought for a moment that he would have me executed on the spot-"_

_"Oh, Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked. "Is he-"_

_"Calm yourself, Woman, and listen to me," Vegeta interrupted irritably. "I knew enough of the king to know that while he can have a temper, he is an honorable and just man. I was able to take advantage of that long enough to convince him to hold back his hand until the child was born in order to see whether or not I spoke the truth. I told him that if what I said wasn't true, I would accept his sentence without a dispute."_

_"His sentence?" Bulma echoed._

_Vegeta lifted one hand and drew a finger across his throat, making a cutthroat noise as he did so._

_Bulma gasped._

_Vegeta shrugged. "What would you expect? If I were sitting on the throne and my mortal enemy came unannounced and uninvited and told me that he knew that my planet would come under attack and my mate would die unless I heeded his counsel, I would have blasted him where he stood," he reasoned. "I give him a lot of credit because he at least listened to me, for the time being."_

_"He obviously agreed, then." Bulma seemed a little relieved._

_Vegeta nodded. "He honestly didn't have much of a choice. He knows that we Saiyans are a proud race and that honor is an important thing to us. I wouldn't have implied that I would risk my life on something trivial, would I? This would especially be so if I had nothing to gain from the situation."_

_"No, you wouldn't," Bulma agreed, a curious little thought in the back of her mind wondering how else Vegeta was hoping to benefit by his intervention in some way other than Anya's happiness. A reward, perhaps? "But-"_

_^All right, Saiyan. Time's up,^ one of the guards broke in. ^Let's go.^_

_Vegeta gave Bulma one last quick look, his face softening. "Bulma, I... I just wanted to say that I-"_

_He didn't get to finish whatever it was he was about to say, because the two guards behind him hauled him back from the console. ^He said time's up. That means now.^_

_"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted helplessly. "Wait! No!"_

_He turned to look back at her one last time, an expression completely devoid of emotion on his face. His eyes, however, betrayed his true feelings._

_They were those of intense longing and regret._

_"No!" Bulma screamed, throwing her hands up against the monitor as if trying to reach through it. Oh gods, how would she explain this? She had given him the ship. How could she live with herself, let alone without him? "Vegeta!"_

_As he was being lead away, Vegeta tried unsuccessfully not to hear the agonized sound of her voice or to wonder what exactly it meant._

* * *

^I will have a word with you, Prince Vegeta.^

Vegeta turned to face the Gerdian king, surprised to see that the monarch had personally come to his quarters rather than summon him. He bowed respectfully. ^Your daughter has been born, Majesty?^ he asked in an emotionless voice.

^Yes, she has.^ He closed the door behind him and came into the main area of the room. ^Prince Vegeta, I owe you a debt of gratitude which I will never be able to repay. My wife is alive and well due to your intervention.^

Vegeta let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. ^I am very glad to hear it, Majesty, and honored to have provided you with a means of assistance.^

The king shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. ^Nevertheless, she nearly died. I realized many things that I had not considered before. Never have I been so humbled,^ he admitted, gazing out the same window Vegeta had been staring out of. ^I must convey my sincerest of thanks and apologies for my conduct.^

^Thank you, Majesty, but apologies are unnecessary. I myself must offer you my thanks in that you held back your judgment.^ Vegeta drew in a deep breath. ^I am a harsh man, and doubtless had our positions been reversed we would not be standing here engaging in this discussion.^ The corner of his mouth curved up, but he shook his head. ^It's not one of my more endearing qualities.^

The king let out a laugh at this. ^No, I suppose not. You must join us tonight for dinner,^ he informed the surprised Saiyan. ^I will have my personal servant attend to your dress and grooming shortly.^

^Thank you, Majesty,^ Vegeta responded, thanking the gods that all had gone well. ^But, if I may make a request of the king?^

^Of course,^ King Herrón acknowledged without hesitation.

Vegeta held up his hands wordlessly. He attempted to use his ki; instantly, the bands around his wrists glowed brightly and snapped together as he gritted his teeth against what was obviously a most unpleasant sensation created by the bands.

King Herrón looked absolutely horrified. ^What is this?^

^They are ki suppressors,^ Vegeta stated matter-of-factly. ^I suppose I cannot blame your guards for their squeamishness of either me or my race.^

King Herrón's face turned red from both embarrassment and anger. ^I will have those guards removed from duty immediately,^ he declared. ^They will receive the severest of punishments. I gave no order to put anyone under bonds, most especially another dignitary.^

Immediately he called for a servant to remove the suppressors, and Vegeta sighed with relief when he felt his strength return. _Thank Kami. I don't like that weak as a baby feeling._ ^Oh, that's so much better,^ he murmured.

The king nodded his agreement. ^I imagine so. Is there anything else you require before we dine tonight?^

Vegeta contemplated this. ^How long will that be?^ he asked.

^Dinner is always promptly at six o'clock,^ the king told him. His eyebrow rose. ^Have you not been given anything to eat-^

A loud growl interrupted him. ^Not since yesterday,^ Vegeta told him, embarrassed by the noises coming from his stomach at the mere thought of food. ^Saiyans require significantly more food than most other species.^

The king was livid. ^I will send someone at once,^ he growled. ^I am truly shocked and appalled by the manner of your treatment here. Please accept my apologies. I had no idea that this had happened.^

^Of course, Majesty,^ Vegeta told him, holding back his annoyance. ^But, if it is permissible, there _is_ one other thing I require.^

^Name it, and it shall be done,^ the king agreed.

^After we dine, I would like to contact my son's mother on Earth,^ Vegeta requested. ^When I spoke to her last she was quite distraught by my situation.^

^Of course you shall contact your wife,^ the king agreed.

Vegeta's shoulders drooped and his face fell. ^She is not my wife,^ he murmured. ^We are separated at the moment, and she has accepted another man into her life. I...^ He trailed off, staring at the floor, wondering why he had divulged what he had to the king.

^I am sorry to hear it,^ King Herrón responded sincerely. He could see the failed attempt on the part of the prince to conceal his sadness.

Vegeta forced a smile and straightened up. ^Yes, I... We are still on good terms. Perhaps one day...^ He stopped short again and let out a small sigh. His stomach rumbled a second time, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the room.

^I shall send a servant immediately to attend to your needs,^ King Herrón reiterated, glad for an excuse to end the awkward lack of conversation. He nodded to Vegeta and headed for the door. He didn't know what to think; it was more than evident to him that the Prince of Saiyans, a people who rarely spoke of affection between two individuals and whose language did not even include a word for 'love', was obviously very much aggrieved by the loss of his relationship with his son's mother. _What a lamentable predicament._ He discovered himself actually feeling pity for the prince.

^Do not reveal it if you have, but have you selected a name for the princess?^

King Herrón stopped and turned at the sound of Vegeta's voice. ^Yes,^ he confirmed. ^It has not yet been announced. Why do you ask?^

^To show you further that I do speak the truth,^ Vegeta responded. ^Her name is Anyakita, is it not?^

The king went pale and his mouth opened slightly. ^Yes, it is.^ He looked at Vegeta with both wonder and a hint of fear. _What else does this man know of Gerdia?_ ^You truly know of a threat against Gerdia?^ he asked in a quiet voice.

Vegeta nodded. ^I suspect that we will have quite the interesting conversation over dinner.^

* * *

Bulma rubbed at her eyes and held her baby closer. He was gone. She couldn't believe that Vegeta really was gone this time. That look in his eyes when the guards had taken him away had chilled her to the bone.

The nursery door opened and momentarily a hand laid itself on her shoulder. "Mother, please tell me what's happened. Is it about Father?"

Bulma sighed. "He... oh, Kami, he's..."

"He's what?" Geta prompted gently.

Her face fell and she couldn't speak. Instead, she silently mimicked the same cutthroat motion Vegeta had used with her finger.

Geta's jaw dropped. "What?" he exclaimed. "How..." He looked at his mother, shocked. "Where did he go?"

Bulma shook her head. "He made me promise not to tell you."

"Listen, Mother," Geta argued, taking her by the shoulders. "If there is even a tiny chance to get Father out of whatever it is that he's gotten himself into, I'll take it, or die trying. But if he has indeed been..." Geta inhaled, not wanting to say the words. "I'll make whoever did it pay."

"This is exactly why he made me promise not to tell," Bulma objected, fresh tears springing to her eyes. "He didn't want you or Anya involved in any 'foolish stunts' as he put it."

"For Kami's sake, Mother! Don't you care what happens to Father?" Geta snapped. "I know you're not with him any longer, but he _is_ my father and I care-"

"Vegeta Thomas Briefs, how could you say such a thing?" Bulma exclaimed, hurt. "Of course I care about your father! What happens to him." She blushed a bright shade of pink; that hadn't exactly come out the way she'd intended. "I don't believe it. He can't be dead. I- I'd know if he was, somehow."

"I believe you," Geta told her seriously. He raised an eyebrow and ran his finger along the bite mark on his own neck. "Just as I know when Anya is unwell."

Bulma didn't know what to say; she knew what her son was insinuating. "He made me promise not to tell," she repeated, holding VJ closer. She was unable to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "Ever."

Geta sighed. As anxious as he was, he knew that she would keep her word. He could understand how Vegeta wouldn't want someone else's involvement while he was doing whatever it was he was doing, but why Vegeta would make her promise not to_ ever_ tell puzzled him. Where could he have gone that would be so terrible that he didn't want him or Anya involved? Suddenly it hit him. As unachievable as the idea seemed, if anyone could pull off the impossible, it was his father. "No... He didn't... they wouldn't..."

Bulma saw Geta's eyes widen and knew he had figured it out. "Geta, don't do anything rash, now-"

Before she knew it, he was leaning over the rocking chair she sat in, his hands on the arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her in the chair. "He went to Gerdia, didn't he?" he asked quietly, but his voice was harsh. "It's Anya's birthday today. He found a way to get there and warn them, didn't he, and they took it as a threat."

Bulma began to tremble; her son's behavior was frightening her. "Geta, please don't."

"That's why he doesn't want Anya knowing. It would break her heart knowing he did something so selfless and that her own father rejected his efforts and had him executed." Geta stood up straight and crossed his arms, his demeanor so much like his father's that Bulma would have sworn that it was Vegeta himself standing before her. He shook his head, then looked back over at Bulma. "Tell me where Gerdia is. I'm going to bring my father home, even if it's to give him an honorable burial," he demanded.

"I- I can't," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I promised-"

"Kami _damn_ it, Mother!" Geta snarled, baring his teeth. "If you weren't holding that baby, I'd pick you up and shake it out of you!"

Bulma cried even harder. "G-Geta, please," she sobbed. "I'm not trying to deny you anything. I just want to respect your father's wishes."

Geta's eyes widened and he felt his stomach clench into a sickening knot. She was absolutely terrified. He fell to his knees before her, his head hanging. "Oh Kami, Mother. I'm so sorry. I got carried away. Please believe that I could never harm you," he whispered, taking her free hand in hers. "Please forgive me." His eyes pleaded with her.

"Of course I forgive you," Bulma whispered back. She slid her infant son, who was surprisingly still asleep, into her lap. "Come here, Sweetheart." She held Geta close and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I probably would have tried to pummel you, myself," she admitted, stroking his hair gently. "Don't think that you get all of your anger from your father."

"I love you, Mother," he murmured into her shoulder.

She could feel his tears dampening her shoulder. "Shhh... I love you too, Geta."

* * *

Vegeta answered the knock at his door to find a servant standing at the other side. ^Your Highness, His Majesty has commanded that you be given more appropriate quarters where you may better attend to your personal needs,^ he informed him with a bow. ^If you will accompany me, I will escort you there immediately.^

Vegeta nodded to the servant, who led him to another section of the palace. He was shown to a large room, lavishly decorated in shades of deep green and gold, the Gerdian royal colors.

^Highness, I have acquired a fresh change of garments for you, and bathing facilities are in the room beyond that door,^ the servant informed him, gesturing. ^I have also instructed the king's personal chef to prepare dinner earlier than usual so that you will suffer no further discomfort. He will have it prepared in half an hour's time.^ He bowed again. ^I am Marius. Please summon me should you require anything else before then.^

^Good,^ Vegeta responded, dismissing the servant. He smiled with satisfaction when he found a light snack of fruit, bread and cheeses as well as a glass of wine on a nearby table, along with the clothing. A fire roared in the large fireplace occupying one wall and, having taken a sip of the wine and finding it to be exceptionally good, he went over to it to bask in its warmth.

He closed his eyes and took another sip as the heat of the flames danced across his cheeks. Vegeta much preferred heat over cold, and had always enjoyed a good fire. Since the Saiyan people were a warrior race, he supposed that perhaps his preference stemmed from the destructive nature all Saiyans were inherently born with.

Another sensation within him worked its way to the forefront of his mind as he relaxed from the fire's gentle heat. In his mind's eye, he recalled Bulma coming to sit beside him by the fireplace and hand him a glass of wine. She watched him with a smile as he sipped it pensively, then gasped in surprise as he grinned madly and proceeded to finish the entire glass in a couple of gulps. After removing the glass from her hand and shoving them both onto the mantle, he scooped her into his arms and kissed her as he lowered her down onto the plush carpet.

She hummed appreciatively and returned the kiss with interest. Their tongues battled as his hands fondled her body, her hands trailing down his chest to undo the fly of his jeans-

A loud pop from the fire startled him from his daydream, and Vegeta shook his head to clear it. It was difficult for him to not finish playing out the incident in his mind; they had made love quite passionately several times in front of the fire. She had moaned and gasped and clung to him tightly. Her cries of his name echoed in his ears, along with fervent declarations of her love for him.

Vegeta cursed, finding himself aroused, frustrated and alone, without the woman who nightly plagued his dreams to soothe him. He sighed and turned away from the fireplace, setting his empty glass on the table. He made short work of the food, and picked up the clothing to examine it. He'd do whatever it took to get his mind on something, _anything, _other than the woman whom he so desperately wanted back for his own.

The shirt he held was the same deep hunter green in color and was designed to be slipped over the head tunic style. It was decorated with heavy gold braid trim along the lower hem and wrists and the royal insignia of Gerdia on the left breast. The pants were of the same fabric, something similar to silk, he guessed, and slipped on rather than having to be zipped or buttoned. They, too, had gold trim along the pant legs. There was even a pair of soft-soled shoes in a deep brown color.

"Oh, goodie. They gave me a pair of the king's jammies to wear," Vegeta grumbled sarcastically, tossing the items onto the huge bed in one corner of the room. "I'm going to look like a..."

He stopped, impressed by the spacious bathroom he had just entered. There was a huge walk-in shower, a large bathtub that, upon further inspection, he discovered was actually a jacuzzi, a large marble vanity, a sauna, and even another fireplace. Everything was done with accents in the same deep green and gold colors as the rest of the room. "Wow," he muttered. "I'm going to have to get a bathroom like this one."

* * *

Vegeta inspected his appearance in front of the bathroom mirror critically. He supposed that he didn't look _too_ foolish in the loose garments, which he had to admit were actually quite comfortable. From what he had heard, the Gerdians were fond of comfortable clothing. Even King Herrón had not worn restrictive looking clothes, he recalled. He thought of the loose-fitting garments he had seen a few people wearing back in Western Country and asked what they were. The people he had seen had each been wearing a _kimono_, Bulma had explained, along with various accessories. She had offered to have one made for him, but he had given her a you-must-be-joking expression and flatly refused, especially when he recalled that the way Geta had been wearing his hair before it had been cut was also of Western style. His first thought had been no way in hell would he wear either!

He looked over at the clock. There was still about ten minutes before the servant would come summon him for dinner. Feeling suddenly tired from the wine and the warm shower he'd taken, Vegeta climbed onto the bed and sat against the pillows. They certainly were comfortable. He yawned noisily.

Well, there was no harm in just resting his head for a few minutes, was there?

* * *

^Prince Vegeta?^

Receiving no answer, Marius hesitantly overrode the locking sequence and opened the door to the prince's suite slightly. He heard nothing at first, then a low snore. He opened the door farther and looked inside to see Vegeta fast asleep on the bed.

_The Prince of Saiyans snores! How interesting._ Marius crept up to the bed. He hated to wake the sleeping prince, but dinner was ready and he knew the man was hungry. ^Prince Vegeta?^ He reached out and touched Vegeta's shoulder.

The next thing Marius knew, the prince had snarled out something in a language he did not understand and he found himself pinned under twice his own weight in solid muscle. ^M-M'lord… Highness, it is Marius!^ he managed around the hands encircling his throat.

Vegeta's eyes opened the rest of the way, then widened as he realized what he had just done. He released his hold on the servant's neck immediately and got up, looking rather shaken. ^Let me give you a free piece of advice. Never sneak up on a Saiyan, especially a sleeping one. You may not live to regret it a second time.^ He raised his chin, regaining his composure. ^I am assuming that you are here to deliver a summons on the part of His Majesty?^

^Yes, Highness. Please pardon the intrusion. I did not wish to disturb you, and I would not have under any other circumstances.^

^Yes, yes, fine. Let's go,^ Vegeta responded impatiently. ^I get irritable when I'm hungry.^ He couldn't hide a grin as the man's eyes widened.

^Yes, Highness. Right this way, please.^ Marius lead Vegeta down what seemed like an endless maze of corridors before finally reaching the desired room. He knocked, and another servant let them in. ^Majesties, I have brought your honored guest as requested,^ he announced with a bow.

^Good,^ King Herrón said with a nod. ^See him in.^

Vegeta entered the large dining room and bowed respectfully before the king and queen, hearing a shocked gasp as he did so. Evidently, the king had not told his wife who their 'honored guest' was. He had a feeling that he knew the reason why, if she was anything at all like your average Gerdian, and that this really _would_ prove to be an interesting dinner. ^Majesties.^

^Rise, please, Prince Vegeta, and join us at our table,^ King Herrón instructed, gesturing to the seat which a servant had pulled back for him. ^This is my wife, Evalina. Evalina, meet His Highness Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans.^

^Your Majesty. You are looking well.^

^Th-thank you.^ The queen could see that for some reason the prince had taken an active interest in her, which unnerved her even more than the fact that her husband had invited, as an 'honored guest' no less, the Prince of Saiyans _himself_ to their dinner table. Of course, if he had heard that she had just given birth no more than a couple of hours ago, the comment did make sense.

It was small wonder that her husband had hidden the true nature of the uproar over this strange 'visitor' yesterday. She was about to give birth, and he knew of her trepidation pertaining to Saiyans. She allowed the prince to take her hand and brush his lips over it. They were so soft, as was his hand, which surprised her. He smiled, and took his place as indicated at the table. ^I thank Your Majesties for the honor of your kind invitation to dine with you.^

King Herrón waved the servant away with his hand. ^Not at all, Prince Vegeta. The honor is all mine.^ A new group of servants began to bring dishes full of food to the table. ^I trust your new accommodations were adequate?^

Vegeta nodded. ^Yes, very much so. Thank you.^ He couldn't help but chuckle. ^I was pleasantly surprised by the comfort of these garments that I was given.^

King Herrón smiled. ^Aren't they splendid? The fabric is lightweight, sturdy yet soft, and breathes wonderfully. I myself enjoy wearing them when I am not under the public eye.^ He nodded to a servant carrying a bottle of wine to fill Vegeta's glass first. ^These particular garments are reserved for royalty, noblemen and honored guests. Without a doubt, as my highly honored guest you are indeed entitled to the very best we can offer.^ He raised his glass and the two men took a sip of wine.

The queen had been sitting quietly, observing the interaction between her husband and the Saiyan prince with suspicion and confusion. Why was her husband acting so cordially toward a psychotic mass murderer? Why, for that matter, was the prince even on Gerdia? She felt a little irritation that she had she not been told of his arrival. Her thoughts were interrupted when the dish of food which had been set before her was opened, letting absolutely wonderful smells escape. The servants had brought the main course out first for some reason, probably because she had heard that their 'guest' had not been properly given adequate meals. Ah, well, it didn't matter, and she couldn't help but smile, because the chef had prepared her absolute favorite meal and from the smell of the food had done a superb job. She would have to commend him later.

At the king's order, the servants reluctantly left the room, although his personal bodyguard stood just at the other side of the doorway, ready to leap into action should Vegeta do anything threatening toward Their Majesties. King Herrón's eyebrow rose.

^Yajeel, did I not dismiss you?^ he asked tartly.

^But-^

^You are dismissed for the moment, Yajeel. Do not make it longer than I have currently prescribed.^ King Herrón's voice bode no opposition.

^Of course, M'lord.^ Yajeel took the not so subtle hint, bowed, and left the room.

The three of them began to eat. It was all Vegeta could do to not literally devour the food in front of him; while he was grateful for the snack the servant had brought him earlier, it had only brought him temporary relief and had not offered any true sustenance. He needed meat. _This_ was meat. He had determined the proper etiquette of the use of the utensils provided after a brief glance at his hosts. Despite being almost exactly like silverware, the table manners were different and therefore a little tricky, a little like learning how to use chopsticks had been, but he quickly mastered it.

^Prince Vegeta, are you unwell?^

Vegeta looked over at the queen, who had an unreadable expression on her face. ^I apologize, M'lady. I have not had anything of true substance to eat for two days. My instincts are fairly screaming at me to throw proper etiquette to the wind and eat, and I am not willing to offend you any further by consuming my food in an uncivilized manner in order to satisfy that desire.^

She did not miss his unspoken comment. ^I am quite sorry to hear that you were not properly attended to upon your arrival here. You shall be provided whatever it is you need until you are satisfied. Please, let us leave it at that.^

Vegeta nodded in unspoken agreement. Queen Evalina did seem to be quite the intelligent woman, and did not appear the type who would accept anything less than exactly what she wanted, how she wanted it and when she wanted it. He didn't know if that would be a good or a bad thing, since perhaps she was simply acting the part of the dutiful wife of the host.

He would find out soon enough.

^Yajeel!^ she called out. Instantly the man came through the dining room door to bow beside her. ^Our guest's plate is nearly empty. He will require another serving. You must make haste so that his needs are satisfied.^

^Right away, Majesty.^ He left the room, and shouting could be heard coming from the kitchens, followed by the clattering of a platter hitting the floor and the yelp of some poor servant getting the short end of the stick as a result.

Vegeta couldn't hide his grin as he took a sip of his wine. A small chuckle escaped. ^Forgive me… you remind me of someone else, that's all. Someone whom I told you I would tell you all about, Majesty.^

^Oh?^ King Herrón's interest was evident. ^I am looking forward to hearing what you have to say, Prince Vegeta, and I have given consideration to your proposal earlier.^

^Oh?^ Vegeta repeated, leaning slightly to the side so that the servant who came in with his new plate could switch them. ^And what has His Majesty determined?^

King Herrón waited as the servant tested a morsel of the prince's food and deemed it safe, then dismissed him from the dining room and waited for the door to shut. ^I am in agreement.^

Vegeta's smile lit up his face. ^I am pleased to hear it,^ he said honestly. ^I understand that this was not a decision to be made lightly; in fact, I am sure that it was a difficult one to make, all things considered. But I assure you that you will not regret it, especially after you hear all that I have to say.^

^Proposal? What proposal?^

Vegeta and the king exchanged a glance. She would not be happy about this.

^Herrón? What proposal?^

^Prince Vegeta is aware of a danger against Gerdia and its people,^ King Herrón began in a low voice. He had an idea now of how Vegeta must have felt saying what he was about to relate to his wife. ^He has a young son and will tell us of this danger if we betroth our daughter-^

He did not even get a chance to finish his statement when the queen leapt up from her seat. ^Absolutely not! Herrón, tell me you did not agree to this insanity!^ she all but screamed. ^This is blackmail! How do you know he himself is not behind the threat?^

King Herrón said nothing, but eyed his queen with an expression that told her he was indeed serious.

^Herrón, no! No, no, never! I knew there was something up with you,^ she spat, turning on Vegeta, who raised an eyebrow at her. ^You were being far too cordial. Of course you would want your offspring to one day rule our planet! It's what you _Saiyans_ have wanted ever since-^

^Evalina, that is _enough!_^ King Herrón broke in. ^I do not know Prince Vegeta's underlying motives for wanting our children to join, but he came here in good faith seeking an alliance and by his honor swore to me that he intends Gerdia no ill will. He also swore to me that if he was found to be lying about what he had already told me, he would accept whatever judgment I decided against him. Besides,^ he continued, raising his voice slightly when he could see that she was about to interrupt, ^if not for his intervention, we would be preparing you for your burial rather than eating your favorite meal! Now sit _down_, woman, and silence your tongue if you cannot be patient enough to hear what it is I have to say!^

Queen Evalina went pale and slowly lowered herself down onto her chair. Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears of embarrassment; never before had her husband spoken to her in such a sharp way, never in front of someone else, and especially never in defense of someone she obviously did not care for, and had good reason not to. ^Y-yes, M'lord,^ she managed weakly.

King Herrón sighed. This was not what he had wanted. He hadn't wanted to humiliate his wife, especially in front of the Prince of Saiyans himself. He didn't know what to do that wouldn't make things worse. A motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked at the neatly folded cloth sitting next to his plate. Vegeta cleared his throat ever so slightly and he looked up at the prince, who raised an eyebrow and jerked his head toward the queen, then discretely turned his attention elsewhere.

Understanding Vegeta's meaning, he picked up the handkerchief and got up from his seat. ^Evalina, don't cry.^

:You're sorry. And crying women like to be held. Trust me, _screw_ royal propriety if she means anything to you.:

King Herrón was a little startled by the sudden mental contact and Vegeta's blatant lack of decorum, but decided to take his guest's advice. If what Vegeta had disclosed to him earlier was any indication, the prince was probably no stranger to this type of situation himself. ^I am sorry for my outburst,^ he apologized softly, kneeling down next to the sniffling queen's chair. ^It was not my intention to embarrass or humiliate you, my love.^ He curled an arm around her shoulders and pulled her up with him as he stood, tilting her chin up with his other hand. He dabbed at her cheeks gently with the handkerchief. ^You mean more to me than I could ever say, and what almost happened today made me realize that.^ Her eyes softened and she gazed up at him with surprise. Guiltily, he realized that he had never told her any such thing before, not in all of the years that she had been not just his queen, but his treasured wife. ^Shhh… please just give what Prince Vegeta has to say a chance while we finish our dinner, all right?^

She nodded. ^All right. Herrón, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said the things I did.^

^I know, Evalina,^ he murmured softly. ^I should have been more forthcoming with you, and discussed this privately with you first. But I just know somehow that this is for the best. Please trust me on this. I would never do anything to harm you or our daughter, you know that.^

She nodded again. ^I know.^

The room was silent again for a moment and the king found himself gazing into his wife's green eyes lovingly.

:Go for it.:

It was a gamble on Vegeta's part, but he decided to do it, and managed to hide his smile when the king embraced his wife and kissed her tenderly before returning to his seat, leaving her glowing with a slight blush of pleasure.

King Herrón noticed the little blush and the serene smile playing across his wife's lips. _Perhaps I should be more affectionate of her when others are around. How did Prince Vegeta put it? Screw royal propriety if she means anything to me? And she does._ Before he could say anything, Vegeta spoke.

^This is some kind of bird, is it not?^ he asked before putting the last bite of his meal in his mouth.

The king couldn't help but let out a little laugh at how casual Vegeta was at what he could not have helped but notice. ^Yes, it is. This particular animal is quite common on Gerdia.^

^I thought so. It tastes similar to one we call 'chicken' on Earth,^ Vegeta confirmed. ^It is delicious. My compliments to the cook, indeed.^

^He is the best on Gerdia.^ King Herrón gestured toward the kitchen and the servants came out to clear the table. Right behind those servants was another group who set out the next course, soup this time. ^Put a small table beside us, and bring it all out. We do not wish to be disturbed,^ he directed.

^Yes, Majesty. Right away,^ one of the servants responded. Immediately his orders were carried out, and a table full of food was set up. The testing was done, and the servants left the room.

^Prince Vegeta, if I may, please tell me what happened earlier when you arrived,^ Queen Evalina requested, taking a spoonful of her soup. ^I wish to fully understand the meaning of your proposal.^

^Of course, Majesty,^ Vegeta assented. ^I came here because I was told, by a _very_ reliable source, I might add, that an unknown individual means harm to Gerdia. The intent of this harm was not clear at the time it was related to me, but it _will_ happen unless steps are taken to prevent it. Additionally, in order to save your life and prove what I have to say is indeed the truth, I revealed to His Majesty a warning that you would experience difficulty giving birth to the princess and that it would cost you your life, unless certain preventative steps were again taken. Understandably, neither message was received very well, and I was retired to my quarters until your child was born.

^Fortunately, my warning concerning you was obviously heeded since you are still alive. I gave His Majesty what we call on Earth a senzu bean, which has incredible healing abilities. Once the princess was born, he was to give it to you. Seeing as what I described happened, it is my understanding that His Majesty wishes to hear the rest of my story.^ He began to eat his soup.

^Indeed I do,^ King Herrón agreed. ^Prince Vegeta proposed that should we betroth our daughter to his son, he will relate to us this warning of Gerdia's demise. While I must admit I am still hesitant regarding the joining of a Saiyan and a Gerdian, I now believe that what you have to say must be of the utmost importance if you came here in good faith and risked your life to tell me things I did not wish to hear.^

^Completely understandable, Your Majesty,^ Vegeta acknowledged, setting his spoon down inside his bowl. ^So you do agree to this alliance through my son Vegeta and Princess Anyakita?^

The king nodded, and reached over to his wife, who had looked rather surprised when Vegeta had spoken their daughter's name, and took her hand. ^Yes, Evalina. He knew Anyakita's name as well. I did not tell him, and since none of the servants yet know, there is no way any of them could have told him.^ He took a deep breath and turned his attention to Vegeta. ^You must understand, Prince Vegeta, that we attempted unsuccessfully for many years to have children, and were overjoyed when Evalina became pregnant. Since Evalina's physician has forbidden her to become pregnant again for the sake of her own health, Anyakita is absolutely our only child. She is the future of Gerdia and the rightful heiress to the Gerdian throne, even if we were eventually able to have another child. When she marries, she will not leave Gerdia to live with her husband as a princess normally would. Her husband must reside here, and his children must be born here so that one of them may rule after Anyakita does. If you cannot abide by this, while I am not opposed to our alliance, there is no point in the betrothal of our children.^

Vegeta's face fell as he realized the impact of the king's words. ^I… I had not considered that,^ he admitted quietly, feeling his heart wrench in his chest. His infant son was not only the Saiyan heir, but the _only_ thing he had left. He could not bear the thought of losing his only son, of never seeing him again, except for perhaps the occasional visit to Gerdia. He would not see his grandchildren grow up. They would not know him. The line of Vegeta would end. Could he do that?

At the same time, how could he deny his son a chance at true future happiness? He saw how happy, how very much in love, Geta and Anya were. They would never have met if their worlds had not been torn apart. Even if he had done nothing as far as Gerdia was concerned and the planet suffered destruction, they would still send Anyakita away. Since Geta had told them of the androids, Earth would not suffer the fate it had while he had grown up. Anya was of the opinion that the Gerdian people had hidden their queen on a similarly ravaged world, thinking it to be the last place an enemy would look. Would they still choose Earth? Even if they did, Geta and Anya had met at an android resistance meeting. That would never happen. The odds were nonexistent. They would _never_ meet. Was he selfish enough to keep his son to himself, rather than to allow him to meet a woman he knew would love him? Wouldn't the boy question why _he_ had not met Anyakita? What would he tell him?

Then again, if he did allow his son to leave and live on Gerdia, it would be a known fact that he was Saiyan. The people would hate him simply for _what_ he was, not who he was. But how was that different than now? Hiroshi detested his son, mainly because of what he was. Even if Bulma didn't stay with the man, his son would lose either way.

Vegeta realized his eyes had grown moist and closed them, taking in a deep breath. ^You see, I… the way things are, I may never-^ He stopped abruptly and opened his eyes, deliberately looking ahead to the wall beside him. ^Vegeta is all _I_ have left as well,^ he told them, his voice little more than a whisper. ^The line of the House of Vegeta came to an end when Frieza destroyed my planet. Besides Vegeta, I am the absolute last of the royal line. But, perhaps the Saiyan race can live on a little longer through my son.^ _I will _not_ give in to these foolish emotions! I will not!_ he commanded himself, fighting back the conflicting feelings inwardly tearing him apart.

The queen looked at her husband, seeing pity equal to her own on his face. ^Prince Vegeta, I realize that this must be a difficult decision for you. I know that another child would be no substitute for your son. Every child I lost made me realize that. Is your wife also unable to have any other children?^ Her stomach twisted when the prince's face fell even more deeply into despair, his body drooping.

^I should have made her my wife under human law but did not. I was a fool, Majesty, a proud, _stupid_ fool. I let my pride lead me to make a terrible mistake with my son's mother, and made a selfish decision that hurt her very deeply. I took her for granted, and where she once loved me with all of her heart despite my past, now she will no longer have me as her mate,^ Vegeta murmured, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tremor from his voice. ^Not that I could blame her. But the man who courts her now is a loathsome, despicable individual who treats her badly and hates my son, probably because of _what_ he is, a Saiyan. Not that it would be any different here. How ironic.^ He laughed bitterly.

^I cannot deny my son a chance at future happiness. They should at least be allowed to meet and decide for themselves. Yes, I will let Vegeta decide his own future.^ Vegeta looked up at the two monarchs, who were watching him intently, and forced a smile. ^If it be the wish of them both, I will abide by the requirements of this planet. Let us form the alliance through our children.^

^Very well then, Prince Vegeta. It shall be done,^ King Herrón decided, more curious than ever as to what the prince had to tell him. ^Henceforth, I so declare Anyakita, Princess of Gerdia, to be hereby betrothed to Prince Vegeta, son of Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans. It will be announced to the people, as will our alliance.^

Vegeta nodded. ^Good. Now I shall honor my promise to you and relate to you the entire story as it happened to me. Then you will understand the importance to me of our children's joining.^ He took a sip of his wine before continuing.

^Bulma, my son's mother, is a brilliant scientist. She inherited her intelligence from her father, who invented the encapsulization device I showed you yesterday, Majesty.^

King Herrón nodded, recalling the small capsule.

^Shortly after Vegeta was born, Frieza and his father King Cold arrived on Earth, intending to destroy it after hunting me down, since I had escaped his... his servitude. Enslavement, truthfully.^ Vegeta paused, embarrassed by the revelation of that particular detail. ^Frieza was determined to finally exterminate me and the three remaining members of my race, my son, Kakarrot, a third-class Saiyan who was sent to Earth as an infant, and his son. But before he could, a stranger claiming to be a Saiyan showed up suddenly and defeated them both with ease, although he gave me the honor of delivering the death blow to that _despicable_ lizard Frieza.^

Vegeta sighed and shifted in his seat. ^He had accomplished that which I could not, namely, the status of Super Saiyan, as had Kakarrot. This infuriated me, since from birth I had been heralded as the Legendary, destined to become the first Super Saiyan in 1,000 years. Anyway, I insisted that there was no possible way that he could be a Saiyan, since our race had been destroyed long enough ago that his parents would undoubtedly have been killed along with the rest of the Saiyan people. He wore a helmet and his face was covered above his mouth, concealing his identity, and he wore strange, tattered clothing instead of the armor typical of a Saiyan warrior. I demanded to know who he was and where he had come from. He refused to tell me since Kakarrot was gone in space, stating that he would answer our questions when he returned, which would be in a little more than two hours.^

^I suppose this infuriated you even further?^ Queen Evalina suggested, a hint of amusement to her voice that reminded him even more of his daughter-in-law.

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle. ^Of course it did, especially after the stranger requested food and a bath. He was rather filthy, now that I think about it,^ Vegeta reminisced. ^He knew _exactly _where he was going and headed straight for Bulma's home, where my son and I were also living. Before he went into the bathroom to shower, he gave Bulma one of the very capsules manufactured by her father's company, and told her that it would answer some of her questions. It had a password safety on it, and he said it was the birthdate of someone close to her.

^Bulma tried every single birthdate she could think of but still the capsule would not open. It was then that one of her friends suggested using _my_ birthdate. We both thought that was ridiculous, since, well, my behavior was not exactly what you would refer to as charming at the time. My pride was again getting in the way of treating her with the respect and dignity she deserved, thinking it beneath me.^ His listeners noted that Vegeta actually looked ashamed by this confession, staring down at his hands as he spoke.

^She did, however, ask me, and was shrieking and cursing in frustration when it too did not work.^ He laughed. ^Oh, I'll never forget the look on her face, that fire that burned in her eyes and made her so alluring. This was _her_ technology, coupled with a simple four-digit combination that should be familiar to her, since it was the birthdate of someone she knows. As it turned out, to everyone's surprise it _was_ my birthday programmed into the capsule, only it was the month and day of my birth according to the calendar of Vegeta, which included more months than Earth's calendar. This unnerved me, since I had not shared this information with anyone, not even Bulma.^

^Understandable,^ King Herrón agreed, thoroughly intrigued now.

^Please, go on, Prince Vegeta,^ Queen Evalina urged, blushing slightly when she realized what she'd done. ^When you are comfortable, that is.^

Vegeta cracked a grin. There was no doubting where Anya got her disposition from. ^Of course, Majesty,^ he said smoothly. ^Once the capsule was opened, it revealed a strange looking device made of metal with a glass dome. Inside was a single seat and various controls. Bulma seemed a little unnerved when she saw it, as if it wasn't for the first time. In fact, she knew exactly how to open it and climbed inside, claiming in a shaky voice that she had a primitive blueprint of the very same machine in her laboratory. I didn't believe it possible to be done when she told us that the device was meant for time travel.^

^Time travel?^ the queen exclaimed, deeply involved with the story. ^That is truly possible?^

Vegeta nodded, grinning when her eyes grew impossibly wide. ^Indeed it is, Majesty, and it explained how this man knew that Frieza would arrive at that precise moment at that precise location, and exactly how to defeat him. I was still skeptical, but as another of Bulma's friends pointed out, this stranger had also revealed the time and place of Kakarrot's return from space, and if he was indeed correct regarding that, what else did he know? It was then that Bulma shrieked quite loudly in surprise. She had found a picture inside the machine, and put together right then and there who this mysterious young man was. When she showed me the picture, I was equally astounded when I also realized who he was.^ Vegeta paused and picked up where he'd left off with his soup, figuring with amusement that it would rile up the impatient Gerdian queen.

She didn't disappoint. ^But...^ Queen Evalina sighed. ^I apologize. You are hungry.^

Vegeta smiled, a twinkle in his eye; he could almost feel her mental squirming. ^Ah, M'lady, you are just like her. Or rather, she is just like you,^ he mused to himself.

^I beg your pardon?^ the queen asked in confusion.

^I'll get there,^ Vegeta promised, wiping his mouth with a napkin. ^Where was I- ah, yes. The picture. It was of Bulma, myself and our son, but Vegeta was only three months old at the time and Bulma guessed that the child in the picture had to be well over a year old. Besides, I for one would most certainly have remembered that picture being taken, since in it she was holding our son in one arm and had grabbed me around the neck with the other arm so that she could give me a kiss.^ He chuckled sadly. ^How that particular picture got into a vessel we assumed to be from the future proved Bulma's suspicion.^ Vegeta paused again, eyeing his audience in a way that offered participation in the form of a guess.

^Your son?^ King Herrón asked incredulously.

Vegeta nodded. ^Yes. It was Vegeta, from twenty-one years in the future. When Bulma and I realized this, we ran into the house, only to find him attending to his younger self. Kami, it was startling when he turned around to face us. He favors me tremendously, the exception being that he inherited his mother's blue eyes, and blue hair.^ He couldn't help but grin at their reaction to that one.

^Blue _hair_?^ Queen Evalina asked, just as incredulously. Many Gerdians had blue eyes, but she had never seen someone with blue hair before.

^Yes, a deep blue, almost black, but blue nonetheless,^ Vegeta confirmed. ^I realize now that I neglected to mention that Bulma is a rather stunningly beautiful woman, and her coloring is quite exotic. She has bright blue eyes, soft, silky blue hair, full lips…^ Suddenly realizing how his son must have felt while describing Anya, Vegeta wiped the absent expression from his face and turned a bright pink; his hosts were not hiding their smiles very well. He cleared his throat. ^That, and he had shaved, leaving a mustache and beard.^ Vegeta touched his face for emphasis. ^It was astonishing how very much he looked like my father at that moment. I had… I had almost forgotten. He is also probably at least a good foot and a half taller than I am, as well,^ he grumbled, a small scowl at his lips. ^No, don't ask. Bulma is even shorter than _I_ am. It is well known that the average Saiyan is much taller than I am, but he gets his height from _my_ side of the family.^ He sighed. ^Your curiosity is practically screaming the question, M'lady,^ he teased, as the queen nibbled at her lip and averted her eyes. ^Let's just say that Frieza took me from my father when I was just a little boy, and delighted in beating me into submission, among other things. That doesn't exactly help a young boy grow the way he should,^ he finished in a small voice, obviously embarrassed by his admission. ^He said he would kill my father if I didn't obey him, but he still… Well, needless to say, we were both shocked to see him,^ Vegeta continued, changing the subject back to Geta's arrival. ^Not only because he was our son from the _future_, but because he looked terrible, nothing but skin and bones. He was starving, and abrasions covered his body. He had no strength left. Fighting Frieza had taken everything he had left. It was unimaginable that the son of the wealthiest woman on Earth and the Prince of Saiyans could be in such a state.

^I sent the others away for the time being in order to spare my son's dignity. Bulma quickly went out to a clothing merchant to find something for him to wear, and when she returned I left to find the others. Kakarrot had arrived as my son had predicted, and they all came home with me. They were equally shocked to see who this mystery Saiyan was, but not as much as they were by the reason he had come.^ Vegeta ran his finger along the lip of his glass absently as he spoke. ^He came to warn us of a danger that would destroy not only our lives, but the planet as well. In short, a rival scientist of Capsule Corp, the company founded by Bulma's father, created some androids who somehow developed a form of artificial intelligence and eventually turned on him, as well as all humans. Many of Bulma's friends possess a higher level of ki than the average human and were resisting the androids, making them instant targets. Geta, as my son goes by to avoid confusion between us all, told me that I was one of the first to die, that they killed me right before his eyes. He was only three years old when it happened.^ He shook his head. ^I cannot imagine how terrible that must have been for him, even though he admitted to me that I was a harsh father. Evidently, they tore me to pieces as he sat by watching helplessly, despite the fact that I had achieved this,^ he continued, momentarily dropping the façade of dark hair and eyes hiding his transformation to Super Saiyan and eliciting a surprised gasp from the queen. ^The legendary power of the Super Saiyan just wasn't enough. Almost everyone he loved and cared about was slaughtered. Later, when he was fifteen, he found Bulma and his two remaining friends dead, killed by the Androids. There was no one left but him. The stress pushed him over the edge, and he ascended to Super Saiyan, as you see me. He resolved to use his new found power to fight the androids, but the most he could do was try to stay alive. He was the only one left, and there were two androids.

^When he was seventeen, he met a young lady. He knew she was… how did he put it, 'the one' as soon as he saw her. Young, attractive, blonde haired and green eyed. Let's not forget a sharp wit very much like her mother's, as well.^ Vegeta eyed his hosts, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth. ^Guess who?^

^Anyakita?^ Queen Evalina gasped.

Vegeta nodded, his smile widening. ^Indeed.^

^But how? Why would Anyakita be on Earth rather than Gerdia?^ the king demanded.

^Your daughter met my son at a resistance meeting against the Androids. Geta was completely smitten by her the first time he saw her, but could not understand why she wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't know who Gerdians were, or of the history between our two races. He just liked _her._^ He grinned again. ^His persistence paid off, and she finally gave in and allowed him to court her. Eventually he took her for his wife and she bore him a son. Despite constantly being on the run from the Androids, they were quite happy together and loved each other a great deal. So you see, the possibility of their meeting and their future happiness is one reason I decided to come here to speak with you.

^Do not forget, Majesties, that I came here with a word of warning for Gerdia, as well,^ Vegeta reminded them. ^_This _isit_._ Anya did not remember the details of what happened on Gerdia as she was only ten when it occurred, but someone _will_ attempt to usurp your throne, Majesty,^ Vegeta said slowly, watching the king bristle at his words. ^You were killed, and since Her Majesty had not survived giving birth, Anya became queen just before her eleventh birthday. She reigned for nearly five years before her counselors deemed it too risky for her to remain on Gerdia and sent her away. Unfortunately, war erupted full force on Gerdia in retaliation to her departure, and the planet was destroyed by the rebels. Anya was of the opinion that someone was attempting to gain the throne through her and was angry that he had not succeeded.^

King Herrón's jaw was set. ^She does not know the names of the perpetrators?^

Vegeta shook his head. ^Geta did not have any further information, no.^

^Wait,^ Queen Evalina interjected, leaning forward in her chair. ^Your son did not know? What about Anyakita?^ She paused. ^If she was his wife… but, I thought you said he arrived alone…^

His face told all. ^I was very sorry to hear it myself, Majesty. Geta shed many, many tears as he related the story to his mother and me. He loved her and their son dearly, and it nearly destroyed him when the Androids killed them, right in front of him as they had me. They beat him to the brink of death, then forced him to watch as they killed Anya and the baby.^

^No! No, this cannot be,^ Queen Evalina wailed, throwing her hands over her face. ^This cannot come to pass!^ The king threw his arms around her, struggling to maintain his own composure as she began to sob.

^I _agree_, Majesty, and that is why I am here!^ Vegeta exclaimed. ^Please, let us work together to save both Earth _and_ Gerdia, and preserve the happiness of our children's youth. Even if they determine that their joining is not what they want, at least they will be alive, and grow up happy and healthy. Isn't that worth fighting for?^

^It is,^ King Herrón agreed gruffly. ^I will not allow my planet and my people to be destroyed, and most especially not my daughter.^

^But, Majesty, I am not finished with my story,^ Vegeta informed him. ^Earth, like many planets, has a guardian. This guardian created what are called Dragonballs. There are seven of these orbs, and when they are all gathered together and the appropriate words uttered, a dragon appears, granting the one who summoned him a single wish, as long as it is in his power to fulfill it. I... I personally died at that miserable lizard Frieza's hand, as did many individuals on the planet Namek before it was destroyed. The Dragonballs were used at that time to raise Frieza's victims, and being one of them, I was included. So I knew first hand what these Dragonballs could do.^ He smiled at the king and queen, who suddenly had become extremely interested in what he had to say.

^Are… are you saying…^ King Herrón couldn't manage to finish his question. Was his future daughter truly alive?

^That is what I am saying, Majesty. Seeing the depth of my son's grief moved me to action, and I used the Dragonballs in their behalf. Even after Anya disclosed her true heritage to me, I found myself quite fond of her and the boy, and I am pleased to call her my daughter-in-law. So yes, Anya and my grandson are alive and well back on Earth. Well, he is _your_ grandson as well.^

^Oh!^ the queen exclaimed, shaking her head. ^This is just all too much to take in.^

Vegeta smiled weakly. ^Believe me, I know. They have their moments as any mates do, but it is evident that they do care for each other deeply. Besides, Anya usually comes out on top.^ He laughed heartily. ^My son has a fine woman as his mate, and their son is a vivacious, cheerful boy who brings much joy to our lives. I cannot deny our children this, even if it means sending my son to live here. I cannot allow my son to end up dejected and alone. Like his father, the_ oh_ so mighty Prince of Saiyans, destroyer of races and pillager of planets, reduced to a pathetic, pitiful excuse of a man, and all because of the loss of a woman,^ he finished in a barely audible voice thick with bitter sarcasm directed at himself. ^But let us not speak any further of unpleasant things. This meal is much too delicious to waste.^ Vegeta consumed a small pastry on his plate, raising an eyebrow and smiling as he chewed.

The king and queen exchanged a glance. Truly, this man was not at all what they expected. ^Yes, it is,^ Queen Evalina agreed, picking up her fork. ^Highness, I must confess that I underestimated your character, basing my opinion of you on mere hearsay rather than listening to what you had to say, especially after you saved my life,^ she told him quietly. ^Please accept my apologies. I am pleased to have you as our honored guest for as long as you wish.^

Vegeta swallowed and nodded to her. ^Of course, Majesty, and I thank you,^ he responded. ^Unfortunately, I have little doubt that most of what you have heard is true. It is cliché to claim myself to be a changed man, and I fought it with everything I had within me, but in all honesty, Bulma and my son have made such a difference in my life by giving me something of true value to live for. I no longer desire the things I did a mere year ago. I have no pride left for the things I did in the past. While I wish I could undo my past actions, I would give anything to undo the pain and neglect I caused Bulma and my son.^ He stared down at his plate.

^Perhaps you may take comfort from the photograph Bulma found in the time travel machine,^ King Herrón suggested. ^Perhaps all is not lost for you.^

^That's true,^ Vegeta agreed, brightening suddenly. ^That's true...^

* * *

Anya poked her head inside the nursery door in search for her husband. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in a couple hours, and he seemed mentally agitated. She'd followed their mental connection to the nursery, pleased when she found him there. "Hey, Geta, Bunny asked if you have any preference... what's wrong?" Anya asked with a frown, not even bothering to complete her statement. When she'd entered the room, her husband was sitting quietly with a comforting arm around his mother, and it was evident that both of them had been crying.

"Nothing..." Bulma shook her head. "No, that's a huge lie if I ever told one. I'm afraid that the personal business had Vegeta had to attend to didn't go well," she told her, her voice wavering.

Anya's eyes widened. "Why, what happened?" When neither of them spoke, her stomach twisted. "What _happened?_" she repeated, taking her husband's hand. "Geta, tell me the truth. Is Pops in trouble?"

Geta drew in a deep breath. "We're not sure what happened, Sweetheart, but it appears that he did run into some trouble during his travels."

"Where did he go?" Anya demanded.

"He didn't want me to tell you," Bulma answered. "He- he said it was personal and that he didn't want you and Geta to get involved if there were any problems."

Anya frowned. "But, why all of the secretism... oh, Kami. Today is my birthday. Oh no, please don't tell me... He found a way to see my father, didn't he?" she murmured, coming to the same realization that her husband had. "_Didn't _he? He went to tell Father that my mother would die giving birth to me, and Father..." She dropped her face into her hands and began to cry. The father she had known as a child had not been a kind man; he was bitter and angry, and did not like the fact that he had only a daughter instead of a son to carry on the royal lineage. "You knew about this, Bulma. You knew and didn't want to tell me. I guess I can understand why." She went over to the dresser and got a tissue, dabbing at her eyes.

Geta frowned, confused, as a devious smile slowly crept over his wife's face.

Then it hit him. She'd touched his hand.

"Damn it! Anya, no! Anya, don't you-"

He didn't reach her in time to prevent her index and middle fingers from touching her forehead.

Geta sighed. "...dare. Great." His shoulders slumped, and he turned around to face his white-faced mother. He had no concept of where Gerdia was in the universe, and therefore no idea of where to start searching for his father's ki. "_Now_ will you help me?" he asked anxiously.

* * *

"Pops!"

Startled, Vegeta looked up from his plate. "Anya?" he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. "How..."

Anya rushed over to Vegeta, flinging her arms around him and bursting into tears. "Oh, Pops... when I heard you were in trouble, it wasn't too hard to figure out where it was you'd gone. I- I assumed the worst had happened," she sobbed.

Vegeta put an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her back gently. "Hush now," he murmured softly, touched by her concern. "I'm fine, see? Not a nick, not a scratch, not a dent in the fender," he quipped, his lips curving into a crooked smile.

She sniffled. "Considering that Bulma saw you being taken away and our respective histories..."

"It was merely a misunderstanding. I have spoken with your father and everything is fine, I assure you," Vegeta soothed, tipping up her chin. "None of this, now." He wiped away her tears and smiled at her. "Okay?"

"Okay." She sniffled.

"Good girl-" Vegeta was cut off, a little surprised when she hugged him again. He chuckled and patted her back. "Okay, all right..." He cleared his throat. ^Majesties, there is someone to whom I wish to introduce you.^

Anya froze. So great was her anxiety over the need to find Vegeta that she had completely missed the presence of her own father in the room. Her eyes grew wide and she stepped back from her father-in-law, who bowed to her parents respectfully. "Pops," she whispered. "I- I'm so nervous." Her eyes filled with tears. "What if they don't like me?"

^Shhh... Don't be silly,^ he responded softly. ^It's all right, Anya.^ He turned her around to face her parents.

Anya let out a strangled noise when she saw them and fell to her knees, her hands over her face, sobbing.

They approached her slowly. ^Anyakita?^ the king asked softly, lowering himself to one knee. He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him, her lips trembling. He looked just as she remembered him, only younger and far more at ease. ^Father?^ she whispered. ^Oh, Father!^ Anya wailed, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing even harder.

The king was startled but returned the embrace. His hand reached up to stroke her hair gently, letting her cry on his shoulder. ^It's all right, Child,^ he murmured, his own voice choked with emotion. He pulled her back gently. ^Let me look at you.^ He studied her face briefly and smiled. ^You have your mother's eyes,^ he said softly. He looked up past her to his wife and rose, bringing her up with him.

Anya sniffled and smiled. ^I supposed that I must have,^ she conceded, ^but you never said so when I was a child.^ Her voice sounded a little sad. She took a deep breath and turned to the other occupant of the room slowly. ^Mother,^ she whispered. ^I'd dreamt of this moment for so long, but I never truly imagined it would happen.^

The queen approached a little hesitantly. Their daughter obviously recognized her husband, but she was a stranger. ^Anyakita, I confess I am as overwhelmed as you are,^ she admitted. She didn't really know what to say to the young woman that would mean anything to her.

Anya stepped away from her father as her emotions overcame her. ^Mother,^ she whispered in a choked voice. She rushed over to the queen and hugged her.

The queen returned Anya's hug, her eyes moist with emotion.

^I understand you have a husband and son back on Earth?^ the king asked with a smile as they separated.

Anya nodded, her smile even bigger than her father's. ^Yes. I will have to bring them here so that you can meet them.^

^Anya, sit and talk for a while,^ Vegeta suggested. ^I, on the other hand, should contact Bulma.^

Anya's eyes grew wide. ^Oh yes, the sooner, the better. She was in pretty bad shape when I left,^ she agreed.

King Herrón immediately called for a servant. ^Escort Prince Vegeta to a communications panel so that he may contact Earth, and see to it that he is not disturbed,^ he ordered.

The servant bowed deeply. ^Right away, M'lord. If you would kindly follow me, Highness.^ The two of them left the room.

^Anyakita, is Bulma all right?^ Queen Evalina asked once they were gone.

Anya shook her head and shrugged helplessly. ^I don't know how to answer that, Mother. I know that Pops...^ She giggled. ^That's my name for him, Pops. It started out as a joke, but it sort of stuck after that. Anyway, anyone could tell that he still loves Bulma with all his heart, and he's hurting so terribly over her loss. I have no doubt that Bulma still has some sort of feelings for him as well, but she won't admit to it or even discuss it.^ She sighed unhappily. ^I can only hope that it will be enough someday for them.^

* * *

Vegeta sat down in front of the console and pressed the appropriate buttons to place the call. Bulma had been extremely upset by how he'd been taken away. While the last thing he wanted was for her to suffer because she thought his life was in danger, her reaction had provided him with the tiniest ray of hope- hope that she might indeed still care for him, even if only because of what they had once shared.

The call connected. "Vegeta!" Bulma exclaimed, relieved. "You're all right!"

"Yes, I'm fine, Bulma," Vegeta confirmed softly.

Bulma let out a long sigh, and he could tell that she was expending a lot of effort to remain in control of her emotions. "Thank Kami," she murmured. "I was so worried about you when they took you away like that..." She trailed off as she lost control, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Shh, everything's all right," he continued in the same soft voice. "Don't cry. Anya is here and her mother is alive and well. She's talking with her parents right now. Everything is going perfectly, I assure you."

Bulma sniffled and wiped at her face with a tissue. "I'm so glad, Vegeta. You've done such a wonderful thing for Anya and her mother." She gave him a shaky smile. "Besides that, what would I do with my free time if you weren't around to break the GR?"

He smiled at her fondly. "I've got to be good for something, hmm?"

Bulma gave him a mildly disapproving look. "Don't even think that, Vegeta," she chastised gently. "You're good for a lot of things."

A small smile crept onto his face. "Am I? Like what?" he asked.

The huskiness in his voice and the way he was looking at her gave her goosebumps. "Vegeta..."

"Yes, Bulma?"

She couldn't hold back a deep blush across her cheeks. "When are you coming home?"

"There is another matter that I must attend to before I leave, then we will be home," Vegeta promised.

Bulma nodded. "All right."

They sat there for a long moment, neither of them speaking. The way he was looking at her, as if she were the most precious and desirable thing in the universe, made her feel warm all over. She couldn't deny it any longer. She still had feelings for him and knew she always would, just as she couldn't deny what the look on Vegeta's face meant. He either made no attempt to hide it from her, or he wasn't even aware of the captivated expression on his face. He'd never looked at her like that before, and she'd always longed for him to. Now that he was, she didn't know how to react, so she said the first thing that came to mind. "Vegeta, I-"

"You're-"

She let out a little giggle. As before, after a long silence both of them had chosen the same moment to speak.

Vegeta returned the chuckle. "Go ahead," he prompted softly.

"I... I just wanted to tell you that I'm really glad you're all right, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, the blush returning to her cheeks.

He smiled again. "Thanks." Gods, he wanted her. She was worth dying for and if it came to that he wouldn't hesitate, but he hoped to do a lot of living before it happened.

She nodded. "What were you going to say?"

"You're so beautiful, Bulma," he blurted. "If I had one wish, it would be to hold you right now and for the rest of my life."

Her tears began anew. The only thing he hadn't said was that he loved her, and even an imbecile could see that was the case. His eyes told all, even when he tried to hide it. But why, why _now_ of all times? Why couldn't he have been this way while they were together? If she'd had no doubt that he truly loved her when he'd left for space, she might have been able to read more into the situation, or perhaps he might have handled things with her differently. But as it was now, her life was continually becoming more and more confusing and difficult. "Oh, Vegeta..."

"Don't cry," he told her in the same low voice that had never failed to make her weak and trembling in his arms.

She sniffled. "I... I can't help it."

"How's Vegeta?" he asked, changing the subject for her benefit.

She gave him a wobbly smile. "He's power crawling all over the place," she told him. "We've had to baby-proof the house even more than we already did, and sometimes it's all I can do to keep up with him."

He chuckled again. "Just wait until he starts walking," he told her seriously.

"I think I'll have to put him on one of those baby leashes when that happens," she told him with a giggle.

"You mean the ones with the little harness for the child's body that's connected to a strap?" Vegeta asked with amusement. The very thought of her even attempting to put such an article on the boy made him feel like laughing.

"One and the same." Bulma was glad for the upturn in the conversation.

"Hmm. You could get one, and if he doesn't like being tied up, I could think of a few good uses for the thing," he told her, more than a mere hint of suggestion in his voice.

Bulma dropped her eyes and she felt her cheeks turning red as memories of what he was insinuating came to her mind. "Vegeta, really," she chastised.

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta countered smoothly. "I know_ I_ liked it whenever you tied me to-"

"Vegeta," Bulma cut in weakly. The recollection of what he was talking about made her hot and weak, and she couldn't think about that now. She _shouldn't_ think those things about Vegeta when she had a boyfriend, but she found herself hard pressed to imagine them concerning Hiroshi. And to top it off, here was Vegeta actually _flirting_ with her. While he'd spoken provocatively to her in the past, she couldn't remember him ever having flirted with her before. "You're not making things easy for me right now."

Vegeta leaned back in his seat, unable to hold in a little sigh. "I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, Bulma," he told her. "But I meant every word of our conversation." He paused briefly, gathering his thoughts, and perhaps a little bit of courage. "I miss you, Bulma, and I need you more than I've ever needed anything. It has nothing to do with baby leashes and the like."

Bulma started to cry again. Why did he keep doing this to her? Why couldn't he have expressed such sentiment to her while they were together? Did he have any concept of what he was doing to her emotionally, to have him go from emotionally cold and cruel to tender and loving? It hurt, it hurt terribly to continuously go over and over these warring emotions in her mind, to feel her heart wrenching every time he did something that she'd always wished he would have when she'd loved him with all her heart and soul. "Why now, Vegeta? Why couldn't you have..." She dropped her face into one hand.

She heard another sigh escape. "Because I'm a fool, Bulma," he said in a pained voice. "I took you for granted, and I am very, very sorry for that, and for what I have put you through. I want you to know that, Bulma. I hope that someday..." He too trailed off. He knew he hadn't been acting in the way everyone knew him to be since his return from space, especially concerning Bulma, but he didn't care. He had already allowed his pride to make him ruin everything good in his life. What did it matter to that same pride now if he was heartless and cold, or if he actually said and did the things that were needed? He knew that he should say the words she wanted and needed to hear him say. They were such small words, yet so powerful.

_I love you, Bulma._ But he just couldn't do it. The situation wasn't right. He wanted to be there with her, face to face and holding her in his arms. She needed and deserved that. The time would come, because he needed to do it, too. "I'm sorry. I should go."

She looked up at him, and the broken, downtrodden expression he wore now broke her heart. "I'm sorry too, Vegeta," she whispered.

He nodded. "We'll be back soon."

"Okay." Bulma bit her lip as he leaned forward to terminate the connection, those haunted eyes never leaving hers as he did so. She slumped down in her seat, completely confused and frustrated by what had just happened.

* * *

^Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Bulma?^ Anya asked as Vegeta reentered the room.

Vegeta nodded and offered a respectful bow to her parents. ^Yes. I explained things to her and she's fine,^ he responded emotionlessly.

Queen Evalina's brow creased and she frowned. ^Are you all right, Prince Vegeta?^ He wasn't acting as someone who was glad everything was going well should be.

^I'm fine, thank you.^ He sat down at the table and retrieved his wine glass, hastily finishing its contents in one large gulp.

Anya left her parents and came over to sit beside him. This was not good. ^Pops?^ she asked a little hesitantly.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. She could read him like a book, and the concern in her eyes showed she knew he was not being truthful. He was unable to lie to her. ^All right, Anya, all right. I am anything other than 'fine'.^ He looked away from her.

Anya drew back a little, visibly upset. "There's no need to snap at me, Pops," she told him quietly. "I'm just concerned about you." Her chin trembled, and he knew he had upset her.

Vegeta sighed. Not her, too. He was doing a bang-up job communicating with the female sex today, wasn't he? "I know, Anya. I'm sorry," he apologized. "Please don't be upset. Nothing is your fault, and I shouldn't have taken out my frustration about my own failures on you." He ran a hand over his face; he'd be damned if he'd lose control right then and there.

The king and queen exchanged a glance. Neither understood a word that was being said, but it was evident that the conversation between the prince and his son's mother had not gone as he'd hoped. Neither wanted to intervene during the uncomfortable situation taking place in the dining room, especially when Anya put her arms around him in a comforting gesture, which he returned with an awkward pat of his hand on her shoulder.

^Anyakita?^ King Herrón spoke up after a moment's silence.

Anya smiled at her father-in-law reassuringly. ^It's all right, Father,^ she responded, getting to her feet and turning to face her father. ^It has been a difficult day for all involved today.^

Vegeta let out a sardonic little chuckle. If he had an award for 'understatement of the day', she'd receive it for certain. ^Yes, it has been,^ he agreed, getting up from his chair. ^But at the same time, much good has happened today. See, your mother is well,^ he said, gesturing to the queen to add weight to his statement, ^and I would assume that your younger self is as well.^

Anya nodded happily. ^Thank you, Pops,^ she whispered. ^You have no idea what this means to me.^

^Of course, Anya.^ He couldn't help but smile at the glowing expression of loving gratitude on her face. How could he deny his favored daughter-in-law? ^I remember my mother, even though I was very small when she died. I wanted you to have that, too.^

Anya's chin trembled again, but for the entirely opposite reason as before. ^That's so sweet, Pops.^

^Sweet, bah. Don't talk like that around your parents, or you'll ruin my cold-hearted villain status,^ he mock growled, pleased when she giggled.

King Herrón crossed his arms and chuckled in amusement. It seemed that this cold-hearted villain had both a sense of humor and an incredibly large soft spot for his daughter, and wouldn't care in the slightest if the king of a planet himself let his royal demeanor down. After all, the man had told him to 'screw royal propriety' hardly even an hour earlier and, while crude, it was not advice he would soon forget. ^I think you have already ruined that for your father-in-law, Anyakita,^ he noted dryly.

Anya giggled at the look of resignation on Vegeta's face. ^Oh! I almost forgot. We were going to go see little me,^ she told him brightly. ^You'll come too, won't you?^

Vegeta nodded. ^I wouldn't miss it.^

* * *

Anya peered down into the cradle containing the hours old baby. ^Aww, hello there, baby,^ she cooed, unhesitatingly reaching in to expertly scoop up the newborn.

The servant girl sitting beside the cradle looked to the child's mother hesitantly. While the queen wasn't making any move to intercede, she didn't know this woman, and the wild-haired man in the nursery wasn't making her feel very comfortable either. ^M'lady?^

^It's all right, Dotelli,^ Queen Evalina assured the worried young woman. ^You may attend to your own needs until I summon you again.^

^Thank you, M'lady.^ The girl stood up and curtsied before leaving.

^Aren't I cute, Pops?^ Anya commented, holding the child up so Vegeta could see. Now that the servant girl was gone, she could make such a statement without seeming to be deluded.

Vegeta peered down at the baby, a feeling of déjà vu coming over him as he did so. It was just as how Bulma had held out their son for him to see. ^Of course you are,^ he answered. Commenting that the child looked as red and squished as any other newborn wouldn't exactly earn him any brownie points. ^I wouldn't expect anything else concerning you.^

Anya beamed at him. The child still had that odd just-born appearance, but even if her parents hadn't been in the room, he would have said the same thing simply to please her. ^Here, hold her,^ she offered, holding the baby out to him.

Vegeta hesitated. ^I... I don't know,^ he told her, backing away slightly. ^I've never held an infant so young before.^

^It's okay. Just hold her like you did with VJ when he was small. You won't hurt her as long as you're gentle.^ She placed the baby in the crook of his arm. ^See?^

Vegeta suddenly felt foolish to be so nervous about holding the newborn princess. This was an _honor_ that the king and queen had bestowed upon him. He reached up to adjust the blanket framing the baby's face. ^She's so little,^ he heard himself saying.

^They grow very quickly,^ Anya said softly, pleased by how well Vegeta's interaction with her newborn self was going.

^Yes, they do.^ One of the infant's hands protruded from the blanket, and he reached over with one finger to tickle the little palm. He chuckled when the tiny fingers contracted against his own reflexively. ^Well, little princess, aren't you a fast learner?^ he addressed the baby in a soft voice.

^Fast learner?^ King Herrón inquired.

^Indeed. She has already discovered my ki, haven't you?^ He adjusted the baby in his arms. ^Maybe that's not a bad thing. I imagine being born is not an easy thing to do. She could use a little ki after all that hassle.^ He chuckled again. ^As long as she hasn't learned how to blow things up yet.^ He eyed Anya pointedly.

Anya's cheeks flushed pink. ^Ugh! You're never going to let me live that down, are you?^

The king and queen had remained back a pace so as to not make Vegeta feel crowded and exchanged a glance. This man wasn't cold-hearted at all, even if he pretended to be. The look in his eyes as he held their daughter reinforced that observation.

The king took his wife's hand. ^You're all right with this?^ he asked soundlessly.

She nodded. ^I am now,^ she responded in the same manner.

^See? She _likes_ you,^ Anya commented. ^She hasn't cried or anything.^

^Eh, she's getting a free snack,^ Vegeta told her. ^Besides, she doesn't know any better yet.^ He couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth come over him as the tiny fingers curled around his own. Right then and there, he was determined that he would be father to a daughter of his own one day, one that would be as beautiful as her mother was. No, as beautiful as her mother _is_, his mind corrected itself. There was no doubt in his mind as to who that woman to give him a daughter would be.

^You're silly, Pops.^ Anya giggled. ^Oh! Such a big yawn. I think we should let her get back to her nap now.^ She took the baby from him and placed her back into her cradle. ^Bye-bye, little princess,^ she cooed. ^Sleep tight.^

There was a knock at the door and, upon the king's command, a servant entered. ^Majesty, the populace has been advised of your announcement of the princess' birth. Members of the royal household and the noble class have already assembled, along with many of the civilian populace.^ He bowed before them.

^Good. I will arrive shortly to deliver the announcement.^ King Herrón dismissed the servant. ^Prince Vegeta, I wish for you to join us. I will also announce our alliance through our children at this time.^

Vegeta nodded. ^I would be pleased to attend, Majesty.^

^An alliance? Through your _children_?^ Anya gasped. ^Are you saying...?^

^Yes, Anyakita. I have agreed to the betrothal of my newborn daughter to Prince Vegeta's son, Vegeta,^ King Herrón informed her. ^This would serve to form an alliance between our peoples, and end the animosity between us.^

^It would also form an alliance between Gerdia and Earth,^ Vegeta pointed out, ^since my son is human as well as Saiyan.^

Anya's smile lit up her face. ^That's wonderful!^ she exclaimed, but her face suddenly took on a worried expression. ^But Father, won't the people object to this? What will you do if they cause an uproar?^

^I have assembled my guard so that they may step in if necessary. All of the proceedings will be kept under tight control,^ the king assured her. ^If anyone acts inappropriately, he will be dealt with immediately.^ He drew in a deep breath. ^While I am hesitant about this alliance for the same reasons you are, Anyakita, I have no reason not to believe that Prince Vegeta came here because he feels quite strongly about what he has disclosed to me. Even if nothing more of what he told me takes place, he has already done this planet and its people a great service. You are confirmation of the truth of his words, my daughter, and because of the way that things took place today, I agree that this alliance will prove beneficial to all parties involved. It will be a long and difficult transition for our people, but we can only hope that eventually they will come to the same conclusion that I have, given time to do so.^

Anya nodded, but her brow furrowed uneasily. ^I hope so, Father. I truly hope so.^

* * *

Cheers arose from the crowd assembled below the balcony where the king and queen stood. The news of the princess' birth had been well received, as everyone was aware of the difficulties their beloved queen had experienced bringing an heir to birth. So pleased were they that no one seemed to notice how unusual it was for a woman who had just given birth mere hours ago to be standing beside her husband in perfect health and not fatigued in the slightest.

King Herrón gave a wave of approval to the crowd. ^Here we go, Evalina,^ he murmured out of the side of his mouth. While he wanted to announce the alliance, the more he thought about the inevitably negative reaction of the people, the more he dreaded doing it.

^It will not be taken well,^ Queen Evalina responded in kind. ^But I have faith that you will handle the situation appropriately, as you always have.^

The king turned to his wife enough to smile at her. ^You have always stood beside me, my dear,^ he murmured. ^You are my stronghold. I know that now, more than ever.^ Without restraining himself as he would have before, he placed a soft kiss upon his wife's cheek, making the crowd cheer even louder.

Vegeta watched the proceedings from inside the palace. Soon the king would summon him. Then the fireworks would start. He sighed, his thoughts returning as they always did to Bulma. Why did he always have to upset her as he had during the call he'd placed to her? Why did his attempts to be open and honest with her end up badly? He'd lied to her before leaving for space, not about her being a distraction, but about her being a distraction he did not need or want. Now that he was determined to be truthful, nothing had gotten any better.

Anya had changed into a flowy dress of green and gold and was standing out on the balcony behind her father. No one questioned who she was or why she was there, but given the special garments she was wearing, that wasn't all that surprising. :Pops?:

Vegeta turned away from the window he stood beside. :Hm?:

:I think the real show's about to begin,: she informed him. :Ready?:

He gave her a mental nod. :As ready as I'll ever be.: He had considered wearing his armor, but in the end had decided not to change from the green and gold garments he'd been given. As Anya's dress did, his garments signified dignity and respect allotted to a person of importance, whereas armor would have intimidated the crowd.

He waited for King Herrón to announce the arrival of a person of importance with whom he had formed an alliance, then stepped out onto the balcony. Numerous individuals in the crowd gasped in surprise as the queen moved aside so that Vegeta could stand before the king, obviously having recognized him as a Saiyan when they saw him.

^That man is a _Saiyan!_^ someone exclaimed, fomenting a ripple of dismay through the crowd.

^Brethren, I present to you Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans,^ King Herrón confirmed, gesturing to Vegeta. ^He is my honored guest and ally.^

As expected, general uproar burst forth from the crowd.

^King Herrón, please reconsider this alliance,^ one of his advisors spoke up. ^Everyone is aware of the history between the Gerdian race and the Saiyans. The fact that they attempted to destroy our race will make this a volatile alliance at best. Many of our citizens remember the battle for our deliverance from the Saiyans or even fought in it. I cannot advise that this alliance will serve the best interests of our planet or our people. How do we know that this man is trustworthy?^

^I have always valued your counsel, Falin. But in this instance I must disagree with you,^ King Herrón objected. ^Prince Vegeta has already proven himself to be my ally, and I will not dismiss his attempts for peace because of our history. In fact,^ he continued, suddenly feeling empowered to continue, ^I intend to form this alliance through our children. At this time, I declare Princess Anyakita to be betrothed to Prince Vegeta, son of Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans.^

Angry screams of outrage exploded from the crowd.

_^No!^_

^You cannot do this!^

^How could you even contemplate forming an alliance with those murderous animals?^ an old woman cried out. ^They killed my husband in cold blood when they attacked this planet!^

The crowd clamored in agreement, more and more accusations rapidly being hurled toward the king. He held up his hand to silence them, but it did little good.

^How can you give our princess, your own _daughter_, to the son of this beastly Saiyan?^ a man yelled. ^My family are of noble blood. Even we have more right to wed one of our sons to your daughter than _he_ does!^

Another uproar erupted. King Herrón shot a sideways glance in the direction of the Saiyan prince standing nearby, who had an indecipherable expression on his face. Deciding he'd had more than enough, the king approached the edge of the balcony. _^Silence!^_ he bellowed. ^I order you all to be silent, or I will have my guard quiet you!^

Gradually the crowd began to settle down, but angry murmurs and whispering could still be heard. King Herrón sighed. ^Citizens of Gerdia, hear me when I say that this was not an easy decision for the queen and I to make, but we are united in agreement. That alone should be enough to pacify you, and even if it does not, Prince Vegeta has already proven himself worthy to me personally on more than one occasion. I owe you no further explanation other than the fact that this alliance was made with the best interests of _all_ of you in mind. So heed my words, brethren, and let us embrace the formation of this alliance as an opportunity to be valued rather than-^

He was cut off when, without warning, the prince beside him moved quickly to push him aside, knocking him roughly to the floor.

^He struck His Majesty!^

^I knew it was too good to be true!^

^Lying, deceitful monkey!^

Vegeta jerked away from Yajeel, who had attempted to restrain him, and took a step away, turning away from everyone.

Anya ran over to him, confusion written on her face. ^Pops, why did you _do_ that?^ she exclaimed incredulously. She frowned. She couldn't imagine what would compel him to do such a thing, knowing he would further anger everyone, unless he had a good reason to do so. ^Is something wrong?^

He didn't respond.

She grasped his shoulder, encouraging him to turn to face her. ^Pops?^

His face was pale and his eyes wide. ^Anya,^ he managed. He looked down to his hand, which was clutched to his chest, and pulled it away.

It was coated with blood.

Anya let loose a blood-curdling scream. She grabbed Vegeta's arm to steady him. ^Oh, Kami! Pops!^

Startled gasps and exclamations of surprise were heard when the crowd realized what had happened- someone had attempted a near successful assassination of the king, and the Prince of Saiyans himself had just barely prevented it by putting himself in harm's way instead. Had he merely moved the king aside, the object meant for him would have struck the young woman who had screamed, as she had been standing back behind him.

Vegeta staggered toward the king, who had gotten back up to his feet and was staring in shock at the rapidly expanding splotch of blood on Vegeta's shirt. ^M-Majesty...^ He choked, blood bubbling from between his lips, and his eyes rolled back into his head as the ground rushed up to meet him.


	18. Chapter 18

AN: To those of you who hate cliffhangers, hopefully this chapter will make up for last chapter's Evil Cliffhanger ending. There are some fluffy bits, especially at the end, but I think that for the most part we all enjoy those moments. They add a little something special, don't you think? It can't be angst and hurt all of the time. Besides, a little fluff never hurt anyone.

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Thanking Kami that she'd had the foresight to take some ki from Vegeta before the proceedings had begun, Anya moved faster than the eye could see to catch him before he hit the hard balcony floor. "Pops!"

^Anya, listen to me,^ Vegeta rasped out. ^Make sure that Geta trains Vegeta well, and brings him here when he is old enough.^

^Pops, you're going to do that yourself,^ Anya admonished him, taking his hand and holding it close. ^Stop talking like you're dying. You're too stubborn for that.^

^I've died before, Anya,^ he reminded her. ^It's an unmistakable feeling. You... you of all people know that. This is no different.^ He labored to draw in a rattling breath, as it was becoming more difficult to breathe. ^Please listen, while I... while I still have breath to speak to you.^

Anya nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was hardly aware of the flurry of servants rushing around behind them, the shouts of her father demanding that his personal physician be brought, or the sobs of her mother, who knelt beside her. ^I'm listening.^

^Do what is needed... to make it so, and to protect.... both of our worlds.^ His trembling hand touched her cheek. ^Don't cry, Anya. So much _good_... has happened here today.^

It was better off this way. After his failed conversation with Bulma, it was obvious to him that nothing would be lost as far as she was concerned in the event of his death. Offering his life to preserve that of his new ally, however, might earn his son some favor in the eyes of these people that he might not otherwise have received, as twisted as the thought seemed.

Anya began to sob even harder, unaware of his morbid thoughts. ^I love you, Pops.^

He managed a weak little smile. ^You too...^ She beamed despite her tears, and for not one moment did he regret those two little words. It might be his last chance to say them. Speaking of which... ^Anya, tell Bulma for me... that I'm sorry... _so_ sorry, for everything.^ His grip on her hand weakened. ^Especially that I never had... the courage to tell... to tell her that... I...^ His eyes began to droop closed and the hand touching her cheek fell, leaving a smear of blood behind.

^No!^ Anya hissed at him, reaching over to shake his shoulder. ^Don't you do this! You're stronger than this, and you're going to tell her yourself!^

He shook his head, feeling weak as a baby as he did so. ^P-poisoned,^ he whispered. ^Burning away insides...^

^I'm going to get some help,^ Anya insisted. ^Hang on just a little longer, Pops, _please,_^ she pleaded. ^I'll be back in just a moment, Mother. Don't let him go to sleep.^ Focusing her concentration on her husband's ki, she touched her forehead and disappeared.

* * *

"Geta, I need you now!"

Geta turned at the sound of his wife's voice. His eyes widened when he saw her disheveled and covered in blood. "Anya, what happened?" he exclaimed incredulously.

She snatched their son from his arms and handed him to Bulma, who looked equally horrified. "No time to explain." She grabbed his arm and teleported to the medical lab, where she pressed a button on the regeneration tank to encapsulate it. "Pops jumped in front of some projectile meant to kill my father, and he's _this_ close to dying," she told him as she hastily gathered up the things she needed. "He said he can feel poison burning away his insides." She wiped at her face with her hand. "He can't die again Geta, he just can't. Even when Earth's Dragonballs are ready, we can't use them for him again."

Geta stared at her in shock. She was right- it had been the Earth's Dragonballs which had been used to raise Frieza's victims on Namek. They wouldn't work for his father again. "Tell me where Gerdia is," he instructed her, taking her hands in his. "I will go tend to Father. If it really is poison, I don't want you near it. You go to Goku's house and have him get you a senzu bean from Korin. Go back to Gerdia as soon as you have it, and we'll take Father out of the tank and give it to him."

"But-"

"Anya, if Father's about to die, we don't have any time to argue. Please, help me out here!" His eyes pleaded with her. "I don't know where Gerdia is or even where to begin to search for Father's ki, and I don't want you getting trapped there if something happens and no one with ki you can use to get home is there."

Anya got the point immediately- if Vegeta died while she was there, until Geta managed to find and make it to Gerdia, she'd be stuck there. Besides, borrowed Saiyan strength or not, there would be little she could do requiring physical effort- such as lifting Vegeta into the regeneration tank- in comparison to her much larger and stronger husband. :You're right. I'm sorry.: She opened her mind fully to him.

:Don't be sorry. I know you love Father.: Geta kissed her forehead and accepted the capsule containing the regeneration tank and some medical supplies from her. "Now hurry." He concentrated deeply on his father's rapidly weakening ki and disappeared before she could say anything else.

* * *

^I don't know, Herrón. She said she would be right back, and not to let Prince Vegeta go to sleep,^ Queen Evalina told her husband nervously. ^She said something about getting help.^

It was at that moment that Geta appeared, capsule in hand. His eyes widened when he saw his father lying, unmoving, in an alarmingly large puddle of his own blood. "Father!" he exclaimed, rushing over to him. "Oh, no, Father..."

Those currently tending to Vegeta moved aside when the much larger man pushed forward and dropped to his knees. Judging by the looks of him, he appeared to be a relative of the fallen prince. One servant quietly pointed out the tail wrapped around the tall man's waist, confirming their suspicions.

"Father, please..." Geta placed two fingers on Vegeta's neck to feel for his pulse. It was very weak, but still there. _Kami, he's burning up!_ "Give me some sort of a response!" He pressed the plunger on the capsule and set it down a safe distance away, ignoring the shocked gasps he heard when it opened. He repeated the procedure with the regeneration tank, to which he attached a power supply and a container holding the fluid.

"Geta?" came the barely audible response.

Geta breathed a sigh of relief. "I have the regeneration tank, Father. Anya is trying to track down a senzu bean. When she gets back, I'll take you out of the tank and give you the bean."

He could hear a wet rattling sound come from his father's chest as he drew in a breath, attempting to respond.

"Father, don't speak. Tell me telepathically." Geta struggled to maintain his composure.

:Take it out first.:

:What?:

:You need to remove whatever it is that struck me. I can feel it eating away at my insides.:

:Hold on...: Geta gripped the neckline of what was left of his father's blood-soaked shirt and pulled, tearing it down the center. He winced and sucked in his breath between clenched teeth. Whatever object had struck Vegeta had traveled at an upward angle into his chest, lodging itself deep inside behind his ribs. Blood and body fluids mixed with the toxic substance seeped from the festering wound. The sight and smell of it almost made him physically ill. "Kami," he muttered. :Father, how am I supposed to remove this object? It's behind your ribs, and it looks like it may have struck one of your lungs as well..:

:It did,: Vegeta confirmed. :A couple of my ribs are already broken. Just move them out of the way.:

There was no way that Geta could have hidden his shock. :But-:

"Do you want to help... or not, Geta?" Vegeta wheezed. He opened his eyes and looked up at his son.

Geta bit his lip, fighting back tears. He didn't want to cause Vegeta any more pain, but there was no way around it. "Yes, Father." He sat down on the ground, legs stretched out straight, and carefully slipped one leg across his father's collarbones. He rested the other one over his waist, effectively pinning him down. "I'm sorry, Father," he whispered as he pulled on some surgical gloves.

"J-just do it." Vegeta closed his eyes.

"Do you know how deep it is?" Geta poised his hands above Vegeta's chest.

:Here.: Vegeta mentally showed him where it was. :I trust you, Son.:

The king and queen stood behind him, their eyes widening when the young man drew in a deep breath, then felt inside the festering wound. Vegeta's arms and legs jerked in response, then stiffened. His fingers dug into the concrete and his teeth were clenched so tightly that it was amazing that they didn't crack.

^Oh... I cannot watch this,^ Queen Evalina whimpered, burying her face against her husband's shoulder so she didn't have to see the involuntary tears of pain trickling down Vegeta's cheeks. She could hear the occasional gasp of pain or groan that escaped the injured prince's lips, followed by a strangled scream of agony as another rib snapped.

"I have it, Father!" Geta exclaimed, holding up a sharp, bullet-shaped object in his hand. He dropped it on the ground. "How are you holding up?"

:Just kill me now.: Vegeta coughed, and more blood dripped from his lips.

"Don't be ridiculous," Geta murmured. He took some long cloth bandages from the supply kit and wrapped them around Vegeta's chest. "I'm sorry, I'm nearly done." He hurriedly attached the electrodes to his father's chest and slipped the breathing mask over his mouth and nose. He picked him up and placed him in the cylinder as carefully as possible.

"I love you, Father," he whispered. "You'll be just fine." He closed the door and started the process to fill the cylinder with fluid.

Vegeta managed a weak nod before slipping into a healing sleep.

Geta peeled off his bloody gloves and rested his forehead against the glass, completely exhausted mentally. It was only then that he allowed his own tears to fall, only now they were tears of relief. He sank to his knees in front of the tank. "Thank you, Kami."

^Prince Vegeta?^

Geta lifted his head, staring straight ahead at the blue liquid in the regeneration tank. His heart raced; he knew who the voice belonged to.

Anya's father.

He turned to face the king, his eyes widening when he saw both of Anya's parents standing behind him. Anya was a perfect blend of her parents; she had her father's blonde hair and her mother's green eyes and delicate facial structure. He shifted awkwardly to face them and lowered his head, right fist and left hand over his heart as he remembered seeing Anya do during her formal introduction to his father.

^Rise, young man,^ King Herrón commanded in a soft voice.

Geta's mind raced nervously; he did not understand in the slightest what his father-in-law had said. He was able to discern that the king had not used a typical conversational tone of voice, so he _assumed_ that it was he who had been addressed, especially since he had understood his name spoken earlier, but how was he to know? He had no desire to offend either Anya's parents or the thousands of people still watching by inadvertently doing the wrong thing. Even more so, since he hadn't ever contemplated actually meeting his wife's parents, he had not realized just how important receiving their approval was to him. He couldn't ruin his only chance at a good first impression.

Geta lifted his face slowly to meet his father-in-law's gaze and shook his head sadly, shrugging his shoulders in a helpless fashion. "I don't speak Gerdian," he murmured quietly, gesturing in a fashion that indicated speech from his mouth and shaking his head again. An embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks. _Talk about ruining any chance of a good first impression..._

King Herrón's eyebrows rose. Even though he hadn't understood what Vegeta's son had said, the meaning of his behavior was clear. _So, the boy does not speak Gerdian. How unfortunate._ ^Rise, young man,^ he repeated, coupling his words with his hand as he raised it up.

Geta got to his feet immediately, feeling a little awkward as he stood towering over everyone around him. _What would Father do in this situation?_ He did the first thing that came to mind and smiled, bowing respectfully to them. _They don't like Saiyans to begin with, but somehow Father must have gained a measure of trust, since Anya's mother is still alive. So perhaps I am trying too hard. I need to lighten up a little._ "I am _Geta_," he told them, resting a hand on his chest for emphasis.

The two monarchs nodded; they recognized the nickname from what Vegeta had told them. Feeling good about the positive response, Geta decided to follow through on an idea he had and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket. He opened it and pulled out a picture, knowing they had already seen his wife and had evidently figured out who he was.

Queen Evalina accepted the photograph from him and examined it. She beamed and let out an excited gasp. ^Oh! Herrón, you must see this!^ she exclaimed, her green eyes shining with delight.

Her husband took the picture from her and chuckled when he saw it. It was a shot of Geta sitting on the couch with his arm around Anya's shoulders. They were smiling warmly at each other and their son was stretched across their laps, fast asleep. He looked up from the photograph to see Geta beaming proudly.

^He looks so proud,^ Queen Evalina noted. ^I can see why. What a beautiful picture.^

^Indeed,^ King Herrón agreed. ^Who would have imagined this?^ He pointed to the picture. ^I never would have.^

Geta pointed to the sleeping child. "Vegeta."

They gave him a skeptical look, as if needing confirmation that yes, the boy too was also named Vegeta. He only sighed and nodded, his resigned expression earning an amused chuckle from his in-laws.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Chi-Chi, it's Anya. Is Goku home?" Anya asked breathlessly.

Chi-Chi frowned a little and cradled the phone between her head and shoulder as she pulled one of the curtains aside to peer out the window. Anya sounded so anxious. "Yes, he's outside chopping wood. Why, is something wrong?"

"Yes, I need to speak to him immediately. It's an emergency," Anya told her.

Chi-Chi rapped her knuckles against the window to get her husband's attention and waved him inside. "I'll put him on, okay?"

"Thanks." Anya waited as patiently as she could as the phone was being transferred.

"What's wrong, Chi-Chi?" she could hear Goku's concerned voice asking.

"I don't know," came Chi-Chi's response. "It's Anya asking for you, and she sounds pretty upset."

"Oh." Goku took the phone from his wife. Had Anya found out what had happened? Maybe she was mad at him for not telling her. "Hello, Anya? Is everything okay?"

"No, and I need your help," Anya told him in a shaky voice. "Pops is in trouble on Gerdia, and he's going to die if we don't get him a senzu bean right away."

Evidently she did know, but how that had happened wasn't important at the moment. "What?" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"No time to explain," Anya insisted. "Can you get me one and come over with it?"

"But I got Vegeta two of them before he left," Goku told her. "Did he already use them both?"

"I don't know anything about that," Anya told him. "I just need one now."

He could tell that she was on the verge of tears. "I'll try," he promised. "I'll go see Korin, okay?"

Anya sniffled and nodded, despite him not being able to see her. "Okay. Thanks."

Goku sighed as the line went dead and hung up the phone. "I've gotta go, Chi. I'll finish the wood when I get back, I promise."

"What's going on, Goku?" Chi-Chi asked worriedly. Her usually happy husband was now solemn and lost in thought as he pulled his boots back on.

"I can't explain right now, but I'll tell you everything later." Goku slipped his coat on, kissed his wife's cheek, and disappeared, leaving her standing alone and confused.

* * *

Anya sniffled and dabbed at her face with a tissue as she exited her bathroom. Mrs. Briefs had taken her son so that she and Bulma could talk. She'd cleaned herself up and changed into some fresh clothes as she told Bulma, who was sitting on the bed, everything that had gone on. The only thing she'd left out was the message from Vegeta. She wanted him to have the chance to tell her himself.

If he survived.

"He's... he's dying?" Bulma asked blankly. She couldn't help but feel both guilty over their last conversation and pained by the thought that he might never come home again.

Anya handed her-mother-in-law a tissue and sat down beside her. "If we can't get him a senzu bean, well..." She swallowed. "He was in really serious shape when I left. I don't want him to die, and there's nothing I can do for him but hope. I feel so helpless." She started to cry, which only served to set Bulma off as well.

"He'll be all right, Anya. Goku will get us a senzu bean, you'll see." Bulma dabbed at her face with the tissue.

"I hope so," Anya told her. "He's the closest thing I've ever had to a father, and I love him so much."

_Oh, Kami..._ How could she respond to that? "I know, Sweetie," Bulma said, putting an arm around Anya's shoulders.

They both jumped when Goku suddenly appeared in front of them. "Anya, I got the very last bean," he exclaimed. "I had to promise a few favors, but I got it."

Anya jumped up and threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, thank you so much, Goku!"

Goku returned the hug gently. "Of course, Anya. I don't want to see my friend die, and I know he means a lot to you, too." He looked up past her shoulder to Bulma, trying to pick up on her feelings.

Anya sniffled and let him go. "Yes, he does. Let me have the bean and I'll go."

Goku placed the bean in her hand. "Best wishes, Anya. Vegeta's really lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Goku. For everything." Anya concentrated for a moment, searching for her husband's ki, then placed two fingers to her forehead and disappeared.

They were both silent for a moment before Goku sat down next to Bulma. "I hope Vegeta will be okay."

Bulma nodded. "Me too, Goku."

"He's important to more people than he realizes," Goku added. "Plus, VJ shouldn't have to grow up without his daddy. Vegeta has so much to offer him." He looked straight ahead, avoiding looking at Bulma.

Bulma drew in a deep breath. She knew he was fishing for a response from her. "He's important to me too, Goku," she said quietly. "I don't hate him. I never did. I..." She trailed off. This whole trip had made her do a lot of thinking. She was forced to admit that she still had strong feelings for Vegeta. He was the first man that she had truly, deeply loved, even more than she had loved Yamcha. She was also forced to admit that she still loved him, and that it would devastate her if something bad happened to him. How would she deal with it if he actually died?

"Tell me the truth, Bulma," Goku said, interrupting her thoughts. And don't tell me I'm being ridiculous, either."

He didn't need to say what he meant. She knew very well what he was referring to. He'd told her that she still loved Vegeta at Anya and Geta's wedding, and she insisted that he was being ridiculous. But it was a lie. Bulma felt her face crumple as her emotions overtook her, and she leaned over to hide her face against his shoulder.

Goku put his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly. No words were needed. Her sobs were confirmation enough.

* * *

"I'm back!"

Geta turned to see his wife reappear and leapt up from where he'd been sitting next to the tank to meet her. "Did you find one?" he asked anxiously.

She nodded. "Goku had to go see Korin, but we got one."

Geta closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Kami. He's pretty bad off, and I don't think that the regeneration tank is going to cut it much longer." He took her hand and led her over to the tank.

"He looks, I don't know..." Anya paused, frowning. Her unconscious father-in-law floated peacefully in the blue healing liquid, but didn't look any better off, and she knew she'd been gone for nearly two hours. The tank should have at least begun healing him. "His skin looks so reddish, doesn't it?"

"You're right, it does." Geta looked at the gauges on the machine and frowned. "No wonder- the filtration system can't keep up with the amount of poison in his body, and it's contaminating the fluid," he explained worriedly. "He's alive thanks to the tank, but because we don't have any more new fluid to replace the contaminated fluid, instead of healing him, it's... it's..."

"_Cooking _him," they chorused, quickly meeting each other's eyes after having done so.

"Let's get him out of there!" Anya exclaimed, digging in her pocket frantically for the senzu bean.

"I'm draining the fluid now," Geta announced, pressing buttons on the tank.

The king and queen had stepped up behind them when Anya reappeared but stayed back somewhat, watching as their daughter and her husband spoke briefly before flying into action.

^I wonder what they are talking about,^ Queen Evalina murmured, taking her husband's arm worriedly. ^I do hope that Prince Vegeta will be all right.^

^I hope so too.^ King Herrón stopped talking when Anya and Geta began shouting frantically. Geta hit the tank, which was partially empty, with his fist in frustration and ran his hand through his hair. Anya reached into the bag Geta had used earlier and took out another pair of gloves.

"Can you tell why it's not draining?" Anya asked, handing him the gloves.

"I'm guessing that whatever that poison is, that it's a lot stronger than we thought," Geta answered as he slipped the gloves on. "If it's destroying the tank, it's a wonder it didn't eat through my gloves. Let's hope it doesn't this time, either. Stand back, and get your parents back, too." He levitated to the top of the tank and pried it open, tossing the top down. :Father... Father, wake up,: he sent. :Let's get you out of there.:

There was no response.

:Father!: Geta frowned and reached inside to gently shake his father's shoulder. "Father, wake up! Kami, he's even more feverish than before!" he exclaimed. He reached in with both hands and lifted Vegeta up and out of the tank, wires and all, resting him on the ground. "Quickly, give me the bean!"

"Here it is," Anya managed through her tears.

"Father, you need to eat this senzu bean," Geta told his father in a loud voice as he pulled off the breathing mask and the various wires used to monitor his vital signs. "Come on, wake up. Wake up!" he cried in desperation, shoving the bean between his father's lips and giving him a little shake. "Father!"

^This is what happened to you, Evalina,^ King Herrón told his wife in a quiet voice. ^I thought I had lost you. They said you were gone, but I was stubborn and managed to get the bean down your throat, thank the gods.^ His arm tightened around her.

The queen wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. ^Oh, Herrón... this whole situation is just dreadful. He was willing to sacrifice his life to save us all, and it appears that he just may have done so. How can I sleep tonight knowing that it was I who should have- oh!^

She put a hand over her mouth when Vegeta groaned and sat up slowly. A few gasps and shocked exclamations were heard from the crowd of people watching.

"Pops!" Anya shrieked, throwing her arms around him.

Vegeta shook his head and moved away before she came in contact with him. "No, Anya, don't touch me. I'm covered in poison. You'll only burn yourself. I can feel it stinging away at my skin even as it heals."

Geta took her arm to bring her aside. "Anya, is there someplace nearby where Father and I can wash off and not contaminate the palace?"

She thought about it as quickly as possible. "The ocean isn't far, but it's salty just like on Earth," she mused, eyeing Vegeta worriedly. His newly healed skin was already beginning to show signs of burning. "Oh! There's a little fish pond with a fountain in the garden. Let's take him there." She beckoned to the two men.

The king and queen watched in confusion as their daughter took to flight, the two Saiyans behind her. "I am not even going to contemplate," Queen Evalina mused.

"Nor I," her husband agreed. "The guard has done well keeping everyone here. We should attempt to determine who was behind this."

* * *

"Wow." Geta stared at the now ruined fountain and its adjoining decorative pond. "I think it's safe to say that we trashed it."

"Oh yeah." Anya looked over at her father-in-law. "Feeling any better yet, Pops?"

Vegeta swam over to the side of the pond and looked up at them. "Yes. I should shower, but this seems to have gotten the majority of the poison off." He nudged a dead fish floating nearby away in disgust and grabbed Geta's pants, which Geta had taken off and laid there for him.

"I'm glad, Pops." Anya turned to give him some privacy and couldn't help but giggle. "This situation feels rather familiar, doesn't it?"

She heard a low chuckle. "I suppose, although now it is me borrowing too big clothes so I don't run around butt naked rather than you."

She giggled again. It was so cute when he used such informal speech, especially considering he'd picked the phrase up from her. "Well, it's a good thing Geta is here." She turned back around. "Once this mess is all sorted out, maybe we can relax a little. The palace grounds are beautiful."

Vegeta gave her a little half nod, half shrug. "We'll see." She was a good woman. His son was a very fortunate man. "For now, let's take care of business."

Geta looked down at his state of undress and sighed. His shirt had been ruined and Vegeta had his pants, leaving him with only one wearable article of clothing. "Of all the days to wear briefs," he sighed. "Add to that the complete inability to speak a word here. I must be making such a wonderful impression."

Anya frowned and took his hand. "Honey, don't feel that way. My parents know that these things are out of your control."

"I know." Somehow her words weren't making him feel any better.

"Geta, you're trying too hard," Anya told him. "Just be yourself. You're a wonderful person. I wouldn't have fallen in love with you and married you if you weren't." One blonde eyebrow quirked up at him. "I _am_ royalty, and I have exquisite taste, don't forget."

Geta laughed at this and held her close. "What would I do without you?" he murmured, gracing her with a smile.

"Same thing I'd do without you," she responded seriously. "Wish and wonder about the one that got away."

He kissed the top of her head. "We'd better go before everyone wonders what happened to us."

"Yes, save that for later. You don't need any reaction because of mushy stuff when you've only got _those_ on." Vegeta indicated his son's skimpy undergarment.

"Okay, all right." Geta blushed despite himself as they flew back to the palace.

* * *

Vegeta stood on the balcony, arms crossed and a scowl firmly upon his face. He'd gotten a glimpse of who had shot him, but the man was probably long gone... Wait. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward a little.

^Prince Vegeta?^ King Herrón asked, noting the expression on Vegeta's face.

Vegeta levitated up above the balcony. ^You!^ he shouted, startling the crowd. His finger pointed accusingly into the swarm of people.

^Prince Vegeta?^ King Herrón repeated. ^What is it?^

^I see the bastard,^ Vegeta growled. ^Shall I go retrieve him for you, Majesty?^

King Herrón's lips pressed firmly together as he reined in his anger. ^Yes, I would appreciate that,^ he retorted. This man had tried to kill him and had almost killed his new ally. ^He will be punished most severely.^

Before anyone knew what was happening, Vegeta rocketed into the crowd. People pushed back in fright as the angry Saiyan landed in their midst and grabbed one man by the throat, lifting him off of his feet. ^You miserable, filthy maggot!^ he shouted, well aware that the insult was considered highly offensive by these people. ^How _dare_ you?^ People screamed in terror as Vegeta's hair turned platinum and a golden aura crackled around him.

The man clutched at Vegeta's hand in an unsuccessful attempt to free himself. ^You're... you're the maggot,^ the man managed. He gasped for breath when Vegeta dropped him unceremoniously on the ground.

Vegeta crossed his arms. ^Is that so? I am not the one who attempted to kill your king, am I?^

The man scowled at him as he got to his feet. ^King Herrón betrayed us when he made an alliance with you, and even more so when he sold his daughter to your worthless son, you disgusting murderer,^ he spat.

Further cries of fear came from the people around them when Vegeta grabbed the man, growling as he bared his sharp canines dangerously close to the man's throat. ^You hypocrite! You tried to murder your king, who made this alliance for the benefit of you all! I should dispatch you right here and now and make an example of you!^ he roared. He turned toward the palace. ^What say you, O King?^

Without a word, King Herrón crossed his arms and turned his back, indicating his unwillingness to interfere in the man's benefit.

^I expected nothing less from that cowardly traitor,^ the man shouted. He had nothing to lose and intended to turn as many people on to his point of view as he could before his life ended. ^These people have been deceived by his treachery long enough, and he deserves to die! He has done nothing good for this planet or any of us.^

^That's not true,^ an elderly man spoke up. ^I was a young man when the Saiyans attacked, and even before that happened the average citizen's life was far from perfect. I have watched King Herrón's reign with great interest since he took the throne, and he has done much to restore the condition of this planet and its people. True, we still do not enjoy the conditions we once did, but it is obvious to me that King Herrón has done all he can given what resources he has at his disposal. He has made great advances to improve the quality of all of our lives, and deserves not only our fealty as our king but our gratitude and loyalty as well.^ He stepped forward, waggling an accusing finger at the man. ^You, young man, are the treacherous one, and you are the one who deserves to die for your traitorous actions.^

The crowd burst into an uproar at this.

^I agree with this wise man's words,^ a woman holding a small child spoke up. ^King Herrón has always made sure that those of us with little means of life have always had a place to live, clothing on our backs and food in our mouths. My children have never gone hungry, even after my husband died. Why now would he destroy what he has worked so hard to attain for us by making an alliance that would harm us? I admit that I am afraid of the thought of an alliance with the Saiyans, yes, but none of us know what the king does of this man's loyalty to him. King Herrón has done us no wrong thus far. If this alliance does not work in this planet's favor, I have no doubt that our king will do what is right to correct the situation.^

The crowd clamored in agreement again at the woman's indisputable words. Seeing that the traitor seemed to have few supporters, Vegeta released him and stepped back. ^Perhaps I shall allow your brethren to show you how they feel.^ He leaned in. ^You are not worth bloodying my hands over, maggot,^ he hissed. ^Citizens of Gerdia, what shall be done with this traitor to you and your king, this man who would destroy your lives as you know them? By the authority granted me by His Majesty the king, I leave him to your tender mercies.^ Without another word, Vegeta flew back to the palace, leaving the startled traitor suddenly feeling very much afraid as the angry crowd closed in around him.

* * *

"Wow, that was pretty intense," Geta commented. "I'm glad I had nothing to do with it."

Vegeta eyed his son. "If the arrangements King Herrón and I have made remain the way they are, I have no doubt that your younger self will be involved in many political actions on behalf of the Gerdian crown," he informed him. "It will be his duty as the husband of this planet's princess, and someday as its Prince Consort, should she decide to bestow the title upon him when she becomes queen. Either way, it will be his responsibility to protect and uphold the security of the crown in all respects."

Geta shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably. "That may be so, but I'm still glad I don't have that much responsibility. It was hard enough protecting Anya and Vegeta from the androids, and look how that turned out."

Anya placed her hand on his arm. "Honey, you did the best you could on your own," she told him softly. "Besides, such a responsibility comes with the title, like Pops said." She said nothing else, just eyed him expectantly.

Her meaning suddenly struck him. "You mean, you..." Geta trailed off, not liking the very idea of what she was insinuating.

"Have blood on my hands, too?" Anya finished for him. "Of course. I never personally carried out any executions, but I had to sentence people to death in certain situations according to Gerdia's laws," she told him softly. "Believe me, it wasn't an easy thing to do, especially for a little girl. I went to my chambers and cried the first few times it happened before I realized that I had to make the act impersonal. It never got easier, but at least I was able to deal with it better."

"I will train Vegeta in the ways of the royal court," Vegeta spoke up. "He'll know exactly what will be expected of him." He eyed his son. "Anya is correct, Son. You did the best you could. I couldn't save my people, remember? There is no point in dwelling on the past."

Geta nodded. "Thank you, Father."

There was a knock on the door.

^Enter,^ Vegeta called out.

The door opened and Marius stepped forward, bowing respectfully. ^Your Highness, King Herrón has summoned you.^

^I will accompany you presently,^ Vegeta responded. "Anya, why don't you show Geta the grounds as we discussed?" he suggested. "I don't know how long I will be in discussion with your father." King Herrón had granted him time to refresh himself and to place a call to Capsule Corp. Dr. Briefs had answered the call, as Bulma had been resting due to her stress, and Vegeta assured him that all was well. They had a few matters to attend to, and then they'd be home. It was just as well that Bulma hadn't answered, as he didn't know if he could face her again so soon after their last failed conversation.

"That's a great idea," Anya told him. "Come on, Geta. We'll take a tour of the palace later, once Pops is done with his business with Father."

"Sure." Geta took his wife's hand and allowed her to guide him out to the grounds.

Vegeta watched them go before turning back to Marius. ^I am ready.^

* * *

"This place is absolutely beautiful," Geta commented. They'd seen the gardens, the greenhouses, the stables, and some recreational and relaxation areas. "Those greenhouses were spectacular. We should do something like that at home. Well, on a smaller scale, anyway."

Anya nodded. "Sure, we could do that." She glanced over to the fence separating the palace's grounds from the area surrounding it. "See those little kids?"

Geta chuckled. "Yes, they've been following us for a while now," he commented with amusement.

Anya giggled. "I'm sure they're just curious," she told him. "Some of them probably saw what happened today or heard about it from their parents, and told their friends about it."

He looked back over at the children who were standing at a distance, giggling and whispering to each other, openly staring as they did so.

Embarrassed, Geta turned to his wife. "What are they talking about?" he asked, feeling rather self-conscious.

"They've never seen a man with a tail before," Anya explained, "and I doubt anyone as tall as you, either." She listened further, then giggled.

"What?"

"They want to touch it."

Geta blushed. "You mean touch my tail?" He sounded horrified at the thought; his past experiences with others wanting to 'touch' his tail had not been pleasant.

"They don't mean any harm, Sweetie. They're just genuinely curious." Anya squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Hmph." Geta approached the fence, sending the children rushing a little further away.

"Geta, what are you doing?" Anya exclaimed. After what had happened that day, she wasn't sure he should be going outside of the grounds.

Geta levitated above the fence, causing fascinated little twitters of excitement from the children. "C'mon, let's go out for a little. If anything happens, we'll just leave," he urged.

"I don't know..."

"Anya, we're here. I want to see some stuff before we go home." He turned on the puppy dog eyes, pleased when she finally acquiesced.

"All right," Anya agreed. "But if anything gets weird, we'll leave right away." She frowned at the skeptical look on his face. "Geta, you have to understand that some of these people are desperate just to get by. Add to that the fact that you're a Saiyan who has my father's approval, and you have to see why we might not be the most popular people around here right now."

"Especially after what happened today," Geta added. "All right, Anya. Just for a little bit." He grinned at her. "I'm not saying we should go on a tour or anything. They're just harmless little kids." He levitated over the fence.

Anya sighed and followed her overzealous husband over the fence. "Just be careful, okay?"

Geta kissed his wife's cheek, smiling when the children giggled in response. "I will." He waved at the children, making the most timid of them dash behind the others.

A little girl, perhaps seven years old or so, stepped forward, apparently being egged on by her friends to do so. ^Hi. Can my friends and me see your tail?^ she asked boldly. The other children giggled.

Geta found himself a little surprised that this child would so readily approach and talk to a 'dangerous' stranger, but perhaps that was the point, to see what she could get away with after having heard so many stories about Saiyans and how evil they were. Although it was pretty evident what the girl had asked, he turned to his wife for a translation.

Anya smiled, thoroughly amused. "She said, 'Hi. Can my friends and me see your tail?' " she reported.

_They don't seem like bad little kids._ He shrugged. "I guess so," he responded, unwinding his tail from around his waist and holding it up before her.

Satisfied by this, the girl stepped closer to examine her subject. She smiled and turned her head to say something to the other children, then peered at it again, even more closely this time. Small curious twitters spread amongst the rapidly growing group, who were gradually edging forward.

Anya laughed. "She said, 'It looks like a kitty-cat's tail,' which I suppose it does, in a way."

He couldn't help but chuckle, and the little girl looked up at him wordlessly, but any fool could tell what she wanted. His eyebrow rose and he looked down at her with amusement. "Well?" he asked.

"She said it's pretty, and asked if she could pet it," Anya translated for him, completely charmed.

Geta chuckled again. Obviously he wasn't as scary as they'd been told. He lowered his tail a little more, tickling her arm with the very tip of it. She squealed excitedly and jumped, then reached out slowly to touch it herself. ^Ooooh... It really _does_ feel just like a kitty's tail!^ she informed the small band of children surrounding them. ^It's so soft...^ Her fingers ran a few inches along its length before stopping and moving back up to repeat the petting motion. ^Does it like to be petted, Mister?^ she asked, looking up at him with large brown eyes full of wonder.

Anya's eyebrow rose. Oh, what a loaded question. If this girl only knew the pleasure or pain one could so easily inflict by touching a Saiyan's tail... "Does it like to be petted, Mister?" she repeated.

"An, how do I respond to that? Uhm... sometimes, if it's in a nice way like that. But other times, even kitty-cats don't like being petted," Geta ventured.

"Sounds like a good answer to me." Anya translated for the girl.

This seemed to satisfy the little girl, who nodded. ^Is your head hair soft like your tail?^

"Anya, maybe I should just satisfy her curiosity," Geta told his amused wife after she'd translated. He sat down cross-legged on the ground, surprising the young girl, and looked at her expectantly.

She hesitated, but reached out toward him after he touched his hair and beckoned to her. She touched his hair lightly and smiled, a giggle escaping her lips. Her little fingers grew bolder as she again examined him closely, feeling his heavy eyebrows, his ears, his mustache.

Geta looked up at Anya after she burst out into peals of laughter at something the girl said. "What?"

"She said you have big ears," Anya reported, "and I never thought about it, but you do. But they're nice to nibble on, so I can't complain."

The girl giggled, quickly followed by her band of friends, when the big man's cheeks turned pink.

* * *

^Herrón, Prince Vegeta, come see this,^ Queen Evalina called to the two men entering the room.

^What is it, Evalina?^ Curious, the king gestured for his guest to follow him to the window overlooking the street, where his wife stood and watched whatever was going on below.

^Isn't that adorable?^ she exclaimed, pointing to a crowd of children on the street.

^I cannot tell what they are doing... wait. Anya is there. Is that your son with those children, Prince Vegeta?^

Vegeta peered down, and his eyebrow rose. ^It is indeed,^ he confirmed. ^Majesty, did you happen to see what they are doing?^ he asked the queen.

Queen Evalina nodded. ^It appears that they are curious. They doubtless have never seen a man like your son. From what I was able to ascertain, the little girl closest to him asked if she might see his tail.^ She smiled with amusement.

Vegeta bristled slightly. ^What did he do?^

^Well, he reacted similarly to how you just did,^ she responded, ^but Anya must have assured him that they are simply curious. The little one even got him to let her touch it, and I managed to pick up her saying something about a kitten's tail.^ She laughed. ^She must be quite the little charmer, because your son now has a whole throng of children wanting to feel his hair and mustache. They are particularly fascinated by his tail, however.^

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle. ^I suppose I can understand that. It's not every day that they would see someone with a tail.^ He sighed. ^They are so care free. What do they have to worry about? While part of me is resentful that my son's rightful inheritance has been denied him, the rest of me longs for him to not have to endure the things I did at their age, and the things that Geta and even Anya endured.^ He watched the excited children below. ^Would their parents allow this if they were aware of it?^

The king and queen exchanged a look of hesitation. ^Probably not. After all, my own behavior when you arrived was not exactly cheerful,^ Queen Evalina admitted shamefully.

^Think nothing of it, Majesty,^ Vegeta assured her. ^I would not have behaved even as well as you did. I have only recently learned to become patient.^ He paused. ^I still do not believe I would have the patience that Geta has. A Saiyan's tail is a very private matter.^

Their attentions were all turned to the street below when they heard a yelp, and some of the children scampered away.

^What happened?^ King Herrón asked, noting Anya scolding one boy.

^The boy deliberately stepped on the prince's tail,^ Queen Evalina reported, noting the sour expression on Vegeta's face. ^I'm sure he was not expecting that.^

They watched as the boy pointedly ignored Anya's chastisement and stuck out his tongue. A small girl who had been too shy to approach earlier did so now.

^That's not nice! He wasn't mean to you, and he letted us pet his tail, not hurt it!^ she told the boy, hands on her hips.

^Oh, be quiet, you stupid little runt,^ the boy snarled, giving her a hard shove. ^Get lost!^

The girl hit the ground with a small shriek and promptly started to cry, although she appeared to be more embarrassed than injured. She sat up and clutched her knee, which was scraped from her fall. ^You're mean!^

Geta got to his feet, sending the children scattering. He scowled at the boy and pointed down the street in a manner that clearly meant that the child was to go home. He turned and went over to the little girl and knelt down beside her. "Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay, hmm?"

Frightened, the girl scuttled away and let out a little whimper.

Geta frowned and looked up at Anya. "An, tell her that I wouldn't hurt her," he requested. "I just want to make sure she's all right."

^It's all right, little one,^ Anya spoke softly to the girl. ^Geta would never harm you. He just wants to make sure that you're not hurt.^

The girl looked at her, then over to Geta, who had a reassuring expression on his face. ^All right,^ she relented. The blonde haired lady seemed nice, and she was pretty, so the girl decided to trust her.

"Okay," Anya said, and Geta came over, crouching down to the girl's level.

"Hi there," he said softly. "I see your knee got scraped a little." He waited as Anya translated for him.

The girl nodded. ^Uh-huh. It stings.^

Geta frowned upon hearing what the girl had to say. "Anya, we should get her cleaned up," he decided.

^Would you like Geta to fix your scrape?^ Anya asked.

The girl nodded. ^It hurts, and Mama will be mad if I go home dirty.^

Geta didn't need to know what the girl was saying. Aside from her nod, she still had tears in her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. He felt his heart melt at the little girl's big sad eyes. "Aww, it's okay," soothed, offering her his hand. She took it hesitantly and let him lead her back towards the palace.

^Hey, where are you going?^ one of the children yelled.

^He's gonna roast you like a pig and eat you for dinner!^ another chimed in.

^Don't you listen to them. They're being ridiculous,^ Anya assured the girl, who looked rather unnerved.

"What are they saying?" Geta asked as he picked the girl up and flew toward the palace. "She looks a little nervous."

"Never mind," Anya grumbled. "They're just being silly kids."

* * *

^There now, all better,^ Anya soothed as one of the palace's doctors put a bandage on the girl's knee.

^It still hurts,^ the girl reported.

^The doctor said you didn't break anything, but that's a bad scrape. It will hurt for a while until it heals, right?^ Anya told her, smiling as the doctor nodded in agreement.

^Okay. Thank you, mister doctor,^ the girl said timidly. She'd never been to a doctor before. He was a nice man.

^You are welcome, young lady,^ the doctor told her, lifting her up from the cot she was sitting on and setting her down on the floor.

"Everything okay now?" Geta asked.

"Yes, she'll be just fine," Anya told him. "We should get her home now."

"I guess so." Right on cue, Geta's stomach growled, making the little girl giggle in turn. He chuckled. She was a very cute girl and he liked seeing her smile, considering she'd been afraid of him earlier. "Ask her if she's hungry, An," he requested, pleased when the girl took his hand without prompting and walked out of the medical ward with him. "Find out her name, too. I feel weird calling her 'the girl.' "

Anya giggled. ^What's your name, Sweetheart?^ she asked the now charmed girl, who had completely overcome her fear of the big man whose hand she was holding.

^I'm Leeta!^ the girl chirped. Now that her knee was bandaged up, she seemed to have taken a liking to Geta and was staring as small children often do.

^Hi Leeta, my name is Anya,^ Anya told her. ^Geta said to ask you if you're hungry, too.^

Leeta nodded. ^I din't eat lunch yet.^

^Oh my, then you _are_ hungry. Let's go get something tasty to eat,^ Anya suggested, shooting an amused look her husband's way as she mentally sent him a translation.

^Okay!^ Leeta let Anya show them to the kitchens.

Anya strolled inside, heedless of the glances of the servants. She knew exactly where she was going and who she wanted to see. ^Jankar?^

A middle-aged man turned, looking a little confused when he saw who had addressed her. Based on her clothing she was obviously a guest of importance, but he didn't recall ever having seen her before. ^Yes?^

^We are guests of Their Majesties and would like to give this young lady a snack before she goes home,^ Anya explained. ^Do you have something tasty she could have?^

Jankar looked down at the little girl in peasant's clothing, who looked up at him with eager blue eyes. He smiled at the girl. If these individuals were amongst those whom they had been advised that the king and queen had received as guests, then giving this child something to eat wouldn't be frowned upon. Jankar, along with the other palace servants, knew the rules: always see to the needs of a guest in every way possible. In other words, spoil them shamelessly. It was all the more so in his case today, as this young woman had searched him out personally. ^Why yes! Of course I do, M'lady,^ he responded cordially. He crouched down to Leeta's level. ^Do you like chocolate, little miss?^

Leeta shrugged. ^I don't know what that is,^ she told him, looking a little confused when he and the pretty lady laughed.

^Well then, I shall just have to show you,^ Jankar told her. He went over to a cupboard and pulled out a pan, selected a few tiny confections from it, and placed them on a small plate. ^Here, try these.^ He held the plate out.

Leeta hesitated for a moment before picking up one of the little treats and putting it into her mouth. Her eyes grew impossibly large as she chewed.

All three adults chuckled. ^Ah, I see you do like chocolate,^ Jankar commented as the girl unhesitatingly took another piece.

* * *

"Geta, I'm going to make sure that someone gets Leeta home safely before her parents start worrying about her," Anya told him. "It should only take a few minutes. Why don't you take a look around the armor gallery while I'm gone? I think you would like what you see."

"Sure." Geta squatted down to Leeta's level. "Bye-bye, Leeta," he said with a little wave.

^Geta says bye-bye, Leeta,^ Anya told the girl.

Leeta looked shy for a moment, but suddenly wrapped her little arms around him in a hug. She returned the wave before taking Anya's hand and letting Anya guide her down the hallway. She had a little bag of treats from Jankar and, all things considered, had had a fun day.

Geta chuckled as he watched them go, wondering what it would be like to have a little girl of his own. Who was he kidding, there was no wondering to do. If she was half as darling as Leeta, any daughter of his would have him wrapped around her little finger rather effortlessly and he knew it, especially if she looked anything like her mother. Anya loved children; perhaps she would like to have a daughter. It wasn't as if he could _choose_ should they have another child, but he'd mention the idea to her sometime and see what she said.

He entered the room Anya had indicated and stopped as soon as he got inside, stunned by what he saw. Rows of armor and weaponry filled the room, and some of the armor was put together, lacking only the soldier inside. He went in further, examining everything intently but touching nothing.

* * *

^Ah, Anyakita. There you are,^ a voice called out.

^Father?^ Anya turned to see her parents and Vegeta coming down the hallway behind her. ^Father, I just had a messenger take that little girl home,^ she told him. ^She was so sweet.^

^She did seem to be quite a pleasant child,^ Queen Evalina said with a smile. Anya and Geta had come into the palace with Leeta and, having seen everything that had happened, the king had commanded that the girl be tended to.

Anya nodded. ^She was afraid of Geta at first, but it wasn't long before he won her over.^ She smiled fondly.

^Where is Geta now?^ Vegeta asked.

^I suggested that he take a look around the armor gallery while I saw Leeta off,^ Anya told him. ^I figured he'd enjoy it.^

Vegeta nodded in agreement. He too had enjoyed looking at all the armor and weapons in his father's gallery as a small boy, and understood Anya's reasoning perfectly. ^Ah.^ He paused, thinking about all that had transpired that day. While they had eaten dinner rather early that day in his behalf, the announcement of the children's betrothal had been made, and the whole incident with the traitorous Gerdian had occurred. All of this had taken time. Therefore, it had been growing dark when the children had been playing outdoors. ^Why were those children outdoors so late? Do their parents not wonder where they are?^

King Herrón shrugged. ^As long as these children play together in relatively safe areas, their parents do not seem to be fearful of their safety. Many of the parents are employed for long hours and do not have anyone to mind their children after school hours and on weekends. This is their answer. While I do not agree with this solution, I understand why it has happened.^

^I see.^ Vegeta frowned. He didn't like the idea either, but what else could these parents do? Only the wealthy could afford personal care for their children. He found himself very grateful that Bulma could afford a private caretaker for their son when necessary.

^We have thought deeply on the subject and are doing our best to implement a reasonable solution while allowing these children the freedom to associate with each other. Right now, while there is very little formal control exercised over these children, for the most part they are relatively well behaved, with a few exceptions, of course. We can at least be grateful for that,^ Queen Evalina spoke up.

^Besides that, everyone in the town keeps an eye on the children who live there,^ Anya added. ^If a problem arises with one of the children, someone will step in however they can.^

The queen nodded in agreement. ^Anyakita is correct.^

Vegeta nodded. ^I understand completely, Majesty. I also understand that your Majesties have done much to better the welfare of Gerdia's citizens. Of course you would be concerned for the future of this planet's people.^ Anyakita would have her work cut out for her when she became queen.

^I appreciate your understanding, Prince Vegeta,^ King Herrón told him. ^There is still much reform work to be done, but we do what we can.^ He gestured toward a closed door. ^But for now, I present to you the armor gallery.^

^Ah, yes. I look forward to seeing it,^ Vegeta responded, stepping through the door which Marius was holding open for them. The king's personal servant had appeared seemingly out of nowhere; did he lurk behind his master on a constant basis? Vegeta had to wonder if Yajeel too wasn't far behind, and a quick sweep for the man's ki indicated that this was the case.

They stepped inside the large room filled with armor, weaponry, and paintings of various battle scenes on the walls. It didn't take long to find Geta, who was examining a suit of prominently displayed armor much more extravagant than the rest.

"Ii kamo..." they heard him murmur, making Anya giggle. Aware that he was no longer alone, Geta turned around and bowed politely to her parents. "Anya, come see this."

"Yes, isn't it something?" Anya commented as she approached him. "You have good taste. That's a set of Father's armor."

Geta smiled. "I should have guessed. It's really cool."

"So I heard." Anya stepped closer. "There's the Gerdian royal seal..." She continued to point things out to him.

Vegeta took a turn examining things in the room. He found himself particularly interested in the paintings. As expected, he came across a couple depicting the attempted purge of Gerdia, the Oozaru looming menacingly above the much smaller Gerdian resistors. One painting in particular caught his attention, and he levitated up to view it more closely. "Geta, come see," he called out.

"What is it, Father?" Geta asked as he came over.

"It is a painting of the Saiyans coming here, but there is something I want you to see. Or, rather, someone." Vegeta pointed to an individual on the canvas before him.

Geta's eyebrows rose. "Is that..." The man in the painting looked a lot like Goku.

Vegeta nodded. "Kakarrot's father. Whoever painted this was quite talented, as it looks startlingly like him. They even got the scar correct." He set back down on the floor. "Bardock was one of the few soldiers who were not killed by the resistance and actually made it back home."

^Do you see someone you know, Prince Vegeta?^ King Herrón asked with interest.

^Yes, a third-class soldier by the name of Bardock,^ Vegeta reported. ^He is the father of Kakarrot, the other Saiyan I told you about who lives on Earth.^ He chuckled. Geta was no longer by his side. ^Right back to your armor, I see. Well, at least you will not have a problem getting my son to dress in the Gerdian royal colors when he comes to live here,^ he commented with amusement.

* * *

^It is a beautiful night, isn't it?^ Queen Evalina sighed and wrapped her arms around her husband from behind.

^It is,^ King Herrón agreed softly, turning slightly to take her under his arm. He knew that he should be more affectionate with his wife, especially after she had responded so well at dinner. He bent his head down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before gathering her close to his chest.

She sighed with contentment and slid her arms a little more securely around him. It was truly wonderful when he was so affectionate; not that he generally wasn't, but he usually was much more reserved in the way he displayed it. ^What are you looking at, husband? The stars?^ she suggested, turning her face up to look at him.

Her reaction to his embrace did not disappoint. The absolute love shining in her eyes made his efforts to show her just how much he did care for her worth it. ^I was,^ he agreed, ^but I noticed something else just a moment ago.^ He indicated the direction of his current interest with a nod of his head.

The queen followed his line of vision down to the courtyard below, where their adult daughter and son-in-law sat. The young man held her closely, his chin resting top her head as she sat on his lap, snuggled against his chest. She must have said something to him, for he lifted his head to look down at her. The expression on his face spoke volumes; it was evident that he was completely and helplessly enamored with her. He cupped her face with one hand, his thumb stroking her cheek as he responded in a gentle, deep voice before leaning down to kiss her softly.

^We made a good decision, Herrón,^ Queen Evalina murmured. ^He was gentle with those children and is tender with our daughter, despite growing up under such unfortunate and difficult circumstances. Now, with the precautions we all can take, it can only be better for the boy while he grows up.^

^Indeed,^ King Herrón agreed. ^Any qualms I may have had have been satisfied... oh.^ His smile widened when he noted that they were kissing quite passionately. Geta's arms were wrapped around his wife, and her arms had slid up his back, the fingers of one hand tangled in his hair. He broke the kiss to nuzzle her neck, dropping little kisses along it. She sighed happily and took his hands, rising from the bench they sat on. Her demure little look and the suggestive way she ran a finger down his chest left no doubt as to what her intentions were.

He grinned foolishly at her as she led him away, not putting up resistance in the least- until, that is, he happened to look up and see her parents standing at the window and watching them with smiles on their faces. His eyes widened in surprise and, despite the darkness, they could see him blush deeply in the dim light provided by the torches in the courtyard.

Anya looked up when he stopped following and saw them as well. She giggled and waved, then tugged him along after her as she entered the garden.

^That seems like a fine idea, don't you think, dearest?^ the king murmured against his wife's neck.

It was her turn to blush now. ^Herrón, I just gave birth today,^ she tried to object, but what he was doing felt absolutely wonderful.

^Yes, but...^ The king sighed raggedly and kissed her neck one last time. She was right. After all she'd been through that day, he couldn't complain, nor would he even point out the fact that the senzu bean had healed the stresses that their daughter's birth had placed on her body. ^Yes, you did. You blessed us with a beautiful daughter. I could ask for nothing more at this moment.^

Queen Evalina smiled broadly at him. She knew quite well what was on his mind. ^Of course, Herrón.^ She placed a kiss on his lips. ^I suppose you shall simply have to content yourself with holding me right now.^

King Herrón's eyebrow rose. ^I nearly lost you today, Evalina,^ he murmured softly, tipping her chin up to look at her pretty face. ^'Content' hardly scratches the surface of how holding you makes me feel.^

Tears welled up in the queen's eyes. ^Oh, Herrón,^ she managed, burying her face against his chest. ^I love you.^

^I love you too, Evalina.^ After the events of that day and hearing Prince Vegeta's rather sad story, he was bound and determined to make his wife feel loved and cherished in word and deed. Realization of the importance of his actions to her made what had once been an occasional happening much easier to do.

* * *

Vegeta put down his wine when he heard a knock at his door. He didn't recognize the ki of the individual at the other side. Who would be visiting him this late in the evening? He opened the door to see a young woman holding a large bag. ^Yes?^

^Highness, my name is Pallia,^ the woman told him, bowing as she did so. ^I am one of the king's masseuses and he has sent me to attend to your needs, should you desire my services.^

^Hmm...^ Vegeta's eyebrow rose with interest. The offer certainly was tempting. Anya and Geta had gone out to walk in the gardens and he wasn't ready to go to bed yet. What was the harm in it, especially if the king himself had sent her? ^Very well, Pallia. I would like that.^

The woman smiled brightly. ^I will set up my table in your room, Highness. That way, you will not be disturbed.^

^Good.^ Vegeta stepped aside so she could come in and shut the door behind her.

^I can set up in the wash room so that you are not far from your bath, or perhaps near the fire for warmth,^ Pallia told him, ^wherever you prefer, Highness.^

Vegeta contemplated this. ^I would like to be near the fire,^ he decided.

^Very good, Highness.^ Pallia pulled a folding table from the bag and expertly set it up, then placed sheets and a lightweight blanket on it. ^All right, I will leave for a moment so that you may- oh!^ Surprised, she blushed and averted her eyes; the prince had already removed his clothing and was unabashedly waiting for her to finish. A small smile flickered at her lips ever so briefly. This man wasn't timid at all and, given his physique, she couldn't say she regretted the misunderstanding in the least. She folded back a corner of the blanket and stepped aside. ^If you could lie belly down beneath the blanket with your face over the hole, we can begin.^

Vegeta found himself mildly amused by her surprised reaction. Wasn't this woman going to see his naked body anyway? He personally had no problem with it, as he'd never been ashamed of his body. Dismissing the thought as unimportant, he got onto the table as the woman had directed while she got out her oils.

Vegeta had to admit that he was looking forward to this. It had been quite a while since he'd had a massage, and if she was one of the king's personal servants, she had to be good. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind of how wonderful it had felt every time Bulma had touched him. It had been too long, far too long. Maybe this would help him feel something other than pain and regret.

It wasn't long before he felt the blanket being folded down just below his waist and her hands begin to glide across his back, distributing oil over it. After a while she worked a little deeper on the sore muscles and paused when she heard him let out a little groan.

^Highness, shall I use a lighter touch?^ Pallia asked. He _was_ rather tense.

^No, it feels good,^ came the somewhat muffled response. ^Don't worry about pressing too hard.^

^All right. Please inform me if anything becomes uncomfortable.^ Pallia began rubbing again, her hands expertly following the length of each bone, muscle and tendon. Given the sheer mass of his musculature, her task was difficult enough, but she took him for his word and applied as much pressure as she could, using her forearms and elbows to gain more leverage and deeper access. She nearly paused again when she both heard and felt a low rumbling coming from the prince's torso and smiled when she realized what it was. She couldn't help but feel a little flattered, because evidently the rumors were true- Saiyans _did_ purr like felines when they were content and relaxed.

As she worked further down his back, her eyes fell upon a dark round scar. _His tail?_ she wondered. Taking a chance, she applied a moderate amount of pressure to the area, stopping when he suddenly tensed up. ^Highness?^

Vegeta forced himself to relax. He couldn't help but recall Bulma touching him there, knowing that just the right touch would bring him intense pleasure, while the wrong touch brought intense pain. ^It would be best to avoid that spot,^ he told her.

^I apologize, Highness. I meant no discomfort to you,^ Pallia said, covering his back with the blanket and starting on the backs of his arms. ^I should have asked you how you wished me to proceed.^

^It's all right,^ he mumbled. He sighed. Her touch had unfortunately been pleasurable, and he didn't want anyone other than Bulma doing such a thing to him.

* * *

After a solid two-hour session, Pallia found herself rather tired. Her patient's muscles had been extremely tight, and it had taken quite a bit of effort to work out all of the knots and tension. She was currently massaging his head, rubbing little circles into his scalp with her fingertips. It seemed that her earlier mishap had quickly been forgiven, as he'd let out a sigh and relaxed as she started up again. ^We are finished, Highness. Was everything to your satisfaction?^

^Hmm... magic fingers,^ came the groggy response. She'd beaten the hell out of him, and he'd undoubtedly sleep well that night.

Pallia let a little giggle slip. Despite the stories she'd been told of the Saiyan prince's violent outburst after the attempted assassination of the king, this man's demeanor was not at all what she had expected. He was not like that of the other guests of the king who she had worked on, most of whom had seen her as merely a slave to their desires. He had actually been quite polite to her, and she'd found her guard slipping ever so slightly. ^Thank you, Highness. Is there anything else you require before I leave you to retire for the night?^

Vegeta opened his eyes and sat up a little, leaning back against his forearms to look at her. She was watching him expectantly, and he suddenly realized just what she meant. Obviously her services were restricted to the royal household and any guests that the king might designate, as he had been, and most likely many of them expected more from her than simply a massage. A wave of guilt rushed over him, as he had been guilty of unhesitatingly taking advantage of such opportunities in the past. But now, he just couldn't do that. Despite Bulma no longer wanting him, he had the feeling that she would be hurt. Even if that wasn't an issue, this woman could never even begin to replace Bulma, and being with her had spoiled him for lesser women than the beauty he had once called his mate. ^No, you have pleased me well, I assure you,^ he told her. ^I do indeed offer you my gratitude.^

She nodded, managing to hide her surprise that a man of royalty would actually _thank_ her. ^It was my pleasure to serve you,^ she told him. ^I will collect my things when you have entered your bath. Please let me know if you require further assistance in any way.^

Pallia couldn't help but feel a little disappointed as she left to draw his bath. She didn't typically enjoy the portion of her job that extended past the massage, but there was something different about this man. Despite his reputation, he hadn't been unpleasant at all, and added to the fact that he had a physique that she could compare to no other man she had ever seen, she'd actually been looking forward to it. Besides, she would have had some serious bragging rights with the other female servants. How many of them would have been able to say they'd bedded the Prince of Saiyans himself? None!

She sighed. Ah, well. No doubt he'd be back. There was always next time.

* * *

^Must you also go so soon?^ Queen Evalina asked, a hint of pleading to her voice. Geta had already left that morning to care for his son, and now her daughter and Prince Vegeta were planning to go back to Earth.

^I'm afraid I must,^ Vegeta told her. He bowed gallantly, placing a kiss on her hand as he did so. ^I have some things I must attend to at home. Anya, if you would like to stay, Geta or I could come bring you home whenever you wish,^ he offered.

Anya sniffled and wiped at her eyes. ^I would like to, but I missed my birthday party. Bunny will probably be disappointed if I didn't at least have cake with the family. But I promise I'll come visit again soon with Geta and our son.^

Queen Evalina looked very close to crying herself. ^Yes, do come back soon,^ she urged. Such a lovely woman her daughter would become, and young Prince Vegeta a tender husband. She couldn't be more pleased unless they were to have stayed longer.

^We will.^ Anya nodded in agreement and took Vegeta's hand. ^Ready?^

Vegeta was about to agree when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. He'd searched high and low for the second senzu bean he'd brought with him to no avail. There was one place he'd been where he hadn't thought to look, and it gave him an excuse to do something else he'd wanted to do but hadn't wanted to feel foolish asking to do it. ^I just thought of something I must do,^ he told her. ^Go home and see to Bulma and the children. I will be along in just a moment.^ He gave her hand a little squeeze, bowed to her parents, and left the room.

^Anyakita?^ King Herrón asked.

Anya shrugged her shoulders helplessly. ^I have no idea, Father.^

* * *

Vegeta crept into the nursery. To his disappointment the baby was asleep; he wouldn't have minded seeing her again before leaving. Not a very macho thing to do, no, but not only had his adult daughter-in-law earned herself a very special place in his heart, but the infant version of her had struck a chord with him as well.

^Highness? Is everything all right?^ a voice in the hallway asked.

Vegeta went back into the hallway to see Dotelli, Anyakita's nanny, approaching. ^Yes, I am just saying goodbye to the princess,^ he responded, feeling a little embarrassed when she smiled as if that was the most adorable thing she'd ever heard in her life.

^Of course, Highness. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to you,^ Dotelli offered, bowing.

^I will.^ Vegeta paused. ^You didn't happen to find anything unusual in the nursery, did you?^ he asked. ^I am looking for a small bean with medicinal qualities which I have misplaced.^

^Oh! I have not seen one, but one of the nurses told me of such a bean which had been given to Her Majesty when the princess was born,^ Dotelli responded brightly.

^Yes, that is what I am referring to. I will look, but if you happen to discover the bean in the nursery, please give it to King Herrón,^ Vegeta requested.

Dotelli smiled. ^I would be pleased to be of any assistance, M'lord.^ She bowed again and continued on down the hallway.

Vegeta re-entered the nursery and examined the floor, using his ki to dimly illuminate the room so as not to wake the baby. He sighed in frustration when again, the bean was nowhere in sight. He was just about to leave when a little noise came from the cradle which held the princess. He might have crept out so as not to wake her but the child suddenly hiccupped, then started to cry.

Vegeta went over to the cradle and carefully picked the tiny bundle up. ^Hey now,^ he murmured softly, ^don't cry, little one.^ He turned on a light so he could see the baby better, and so she could see him, pleased when her whimpering quickly stopped.

Anyakita's hands were balled up into tiny fists and he tickled one with a finger, chuckling when the little hand opened and took hold of his finger in a firm grip. She gazed up at him with sleepy blue eyes which he knew would soon turn a lovely shade of green, and he couldn't help but smile before a sober thought permeated his mind. He'd missed out on this with his own son. He should have been there while Bulma had given birth to their son, and have been the first one after Bulma to hold him. He should have done right by both of them, been a good father, and an even better mate to Bulma.

He should have proudly called her his wife, and now it was too late.

His morose thoughts were interrupted by another hiccup from the newborn cradled in the crook of his arm, and he lifted her to rest upon his shoulder so he could rub the little back gently. ^What a precious child you are. Someday I will have a little princess of my own,^ he murmured softly. ^She will look just like her mother, and I'm sure she will be quite spoiled as well.^

The baby let out a little sigh and wriggled against his shoulder, and Vegeta felt his heart melt. How could he ever have not wanted to be a father? As loathe as he had been at one time to admit, he treasured his son and very much enjoyed being a father. It would not end with his son.

^I swear it.^

* * *

"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted, leaping up from the couch as he suddenly appeared in the den. "Oh, thank Kami! You're alive!" She threw her arms around him and began to cry. "When I saw them drag you away, after what you said I thought you were done for. But I knew somehow you couldn't be dead, and you weren't," she sobbed into his chest. "And then when Anya came back, all covered in blood, I just..."

"Shhh, Bulma, it's all right," Vegeta soothed, holding her close with one arm and rubbing her back gently. "No one died and everything is fine. I'll tell you all about it." He noted Hiroshi's angry glare and let her go. :However, if looks could kill, I'd be dead right now.:

"What? Oh!" Bulma blushed fiercely and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm, uhm, glad to hear it, Vegeta."

He nodded. "It went much better than I expected, actually, despite my brush with death and a disturbance at the palace. I'll tell you all about _that_ as well."

"Thank goodness Anya snuck off, or you'd be a goner. She's a hero," Geta teased his wife. He stood in the doorway with his infant self in his arms and handed the baby to Vegeta, who had immediately come over to claim his son.

"Oh, what a relief," Hiroshi interjected sarcastically. "As entertaining as I'm sure sitting here listening to your stories of carnage may be, I have better things to do." He got up from the couch.

"Hiroshi!" Bulma objected. "Vegeta's life was in danger! It had nothing to do with fun and games." She scowled at him.

"Yes, what a devastating loss it would have been to lose our dear resident psychotic," Hiroshi said dryly. He leaned down to kiss Bulma but she moved away, her scowl intensifying.

"That was completely uncalled for," Bulma snapped. "What's your problem today?"

"I see, you'd rather throw yourself into your ex's arms than accept an innocent kiss from your boyfriend. Don't let _me_ get in your way. I'll see you around, Bulma." He headed for the door haughtily.

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out," Geta called after him angrily. He crossed his arms. "What a jerk."

"Geta, watch your mouth," Bulma said weakly, resting her head in her hands. "You'll only provoke him further."

"Whatever," Geta mumbled. "I'm just relieved that everything turned out all right." :If it were up to me, I'd snap that Kami damned bastard's neck.:

:Only if you could beat _me_ to it,: Anya retorted.

Vegeta nodded. He agreed with his son and daughter-in-law, but as long as Bulma defended the man, what could he do? He sighed. "I know."

"You know what, Vegeta?" Bulma asked, then it hit her. "You three are talking about Hiroshi, aren't you?"

"Yes. Never mind," Vegeta said emotionlessly, not denying her accusation. "A lot of good came from my trip."

Bulma sighed, grateful for the change of the topic of conversation. "Tell us about it."

Vegeta shifted his son in his arms and held him closer. "Well, at first my message wasn't very well received, especially the condition I laid down to King Herrón to get me to talk, but once we got past that, things were fine." A smile spread over his face as VJ rested his little head on his shoulder and began sucking his thumb contentedly.

"Condition?" Bulma asked. "What did you ask for?" She was surprised; she thought he had been doing all of this for Anya's sake.

"Daddy made sure that his little prince gets a nice little princess," Vegeta told his son softly, running a hand over the baby's head gently.

Bulma gasped, her face brightening as she realized what he must mean. "Vegeta, are you saying you-"

VJ lifted his head. "Da-ee." He beamed at his stunned father.

Vegeta's attention immediately turned back to the baby in his arms. "He said... did he say...?"

"His first word," Bulma breathed, her eyes tearing up. "My baby said his first word." Her eyebrow rose. "Oh, fine. I carry you in my body for nine months and undergo an excruciating labor giving birth to you and your first word isn't even 'Mama,' " Bulma complained with a lopsided smile.

Vegeta didn't know how to react. He hadn't expected his son's first word to be anything other than 'Mama,' either. He gave his son a little smile and cuddled the child close, taking in a deep breath. He'd thought she was nuts at the time when she'd made the remark, but Bulma had been right; babies did have a good smell. Especially this one, of course. A warm feeling welled up in his heart. "That's right," he whispered. "Daddy's got you." He paused, suddenly remembering the others in the kitchen, watching him.

Vegeta was surprised to realize that right then and there, he didn't care who was watching him. This was his son, the child he hadn't wanted but had wormed his way into his father's cold heart and become a source of pride- as well as comfort- to him.

VJ babbled happily and reached up to pat at his father's face. "Da-ee," he proclaimed loudly.

The warm feeling grew stronger. This child meant everything to him. Only one other person meant as much. "When I arrived, the king's behavior was guarded, which hardly surprised me," Vegeta began in a soft voice, "but he agreed to speak with me. After explaining exactly how it was that I so quickly went from approaching the planet from space to standing in the control room and what a 'capsule' is, I decided to just get to the point and explain why-" He paused as VJ attempted to grab his moving lips. "Why I was there." Without thinking about what he was doing, he took the little hand patting at his face and gently nuzzled it with the tip of his nose the way he'd seen Bulma do before, making his son smile and babble happily.

"What did he say?" Geta asked, trying not to sound too astonished at his father's behavior.

"I told him that I knew of danger against Gerdia and he took it as a threat," Vegeta responded. "I told him that I was not a threat, then the subject of the Saiyans' failed purge came up, and Frieza's involvement. I also told him that I knew of the Queen's condition and that she would give birth to a daughter the following day. The condition I spoke of earlier was that I would tell him everything I knew if he swore to betroth the girl to Vegeta."

Anya winced. "Clever idea, but I'll bet he about went through the roof, didn't he?"

Vegeta gave her a lopsided grin. "You could say that. But it was even worse when I told him that your mother was going to die having you. He threatened to have me executed right then and there, but I told him that if he gave her the senzu bean I had with me it would save her life, and hinted that certainly as the just man he is, he would wait to see if I was telling the truth or not. I told him that if I was indeed lying that I would submit to his decree."

"Wow," Anya commented, impressed. "Good call there, Pops."

"I know what would push _my_ buttons. I just had to determine what would push his," Vegeta told her with a smirk. "He wasn't too happy with me, but when everything happened as I said it would and your mother's life was saved, he quickly changed his mind. He actually personally came to the quarters where I had been assigned to speak with me, and thanked me for my assistance. The possibility that I just might truly know of a threat against Gerdia as I had known about the queen's difficult labor was enough to convince him to listen to what I had to say. So, he invited me to dinner that evening.

"When Queen Evalina saw who her husband's 'honored guest' was, she was quite surprised, as I expected. She was reserved but polite, up until the point that King Herrón told me that he had decided to accept my proposal and found out what it was."

"She got upset, then?" Bulma offered. She took VJ from Vegeta and sat down on the couch with him, draping a blanket over her upper body so she could nurse him.

Vegeta let out a hearty laugh and sat down on his favorite chair. "Oh, to say the least," he responded with amusement. "She leapt out of her seat and began shouting her disapproval."

"Mother did?" Anya asked incredulously. "She seemed so sweet and loving!"

"She is indeed," Vegeta agreed, "but so is another sweet young lady I know who I have seen in a sour mood." He chuckled when Anya's cheeks flushed pink. "I don't blame her reaction. Had I been in her shoes, I daresay I would probably have burst a blood vessel."

"Yeah, like we've never seen that before," Geta piped up, making his wife and mother laugh in response.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up," Vegeta told his son good-naturedly. "Think about it. Not only had she attempted to have a child for many years, but the very same day her husband agreed to betroth that child to the son of their planet's sworn enemy, and she certainly hadn't been consulted about it." He sighed. "Making important decisions without discussing the situation with all parties involved doesn't fare well, I've discovered."

Bulma felt a twinge of pain in her heart. "Vegeta-"

"But anyway," Vegeta continued before Bulma could say anything about his indirect apology, "once she heard the facts she settled down. By the time I related the entire story of what was to befall Gerdia and your history," he said, indicating the young couple seated on the loveseat, "she was in agreement." A slow smile crossed his lips. "Perhaps I am more charismatic than I thought."

Anya giggled. "Oh, Pops."

"Hmph." Vegeta enjoyed seeing the daughter-in-law of whom he was so fond smile after what they'd all been through. "Anyway, soon enough the aforementioned sweet young lady decided to show up and break up the party after she found out what had happened to me. But all was well, and you got to meet your mother after all."

Anya nodded, her eyes growing shiny with unshed tears. "Thank you, Pops. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Anya," Vegeta told her sincerely.

"So how did the whole mess with Anya showing up all bloody happen?" Bulma wanted to know. "She really freaked us out."

"King Herrón needed to make the announcement that Anyakita had been born, which the people responded to favorably," Vegeta began. "He decided to announce our alliance and the betrothal of our children at the same time. Needless to say, the people were _not_ happy when they heard it. I still don't know whether or not that had anything to do with it, but someone in the crowd had a weapon and attempted to assassinate the king. I would assume he meant to do it anyway, since why would someone be carrying a concealed weapon with bullets containing a toxic substance if he did not plan to use it? Regardless, I saw it happening and managed to move him aside, placing myself in harm's way instead."

"I see," Bulma responded thoughtfully. "But why didn't you just put up a ki shield to block the bullet instead of letting it hit you?"

Vegeta's mouth opened, then shut again as the validity of her question sank in. He frowned, a low growl emanating from his throat. "I don't know," he admitted a little irritably. "There was only a second in which to act, and I didn't even think to do it. I made a poor choice which nearly cost me my life." He shifted in his chair. "I suppose that is something I must work on improving during my training."

"Did you catch the person who did it?" Bulma asked in an attempt to save at least a little of his dignity.

Vegeta nodded. "The king's guard were stationed all around, and no one was able to leave. Once Anya returned with a senzu bean, I was able to point the guilty man out. He claimed that King Herrón didn't have Gerdia's best interests in mind, but a couple of people pointed out the good he has accomplished. I left the man to the people to do with as they wished once they realized that he had tried to kill the most praiseworthy ruler they have had in a long time."

"And?" Bulma asked hesitantly, as if she didn't actually want to know the answer but just had to ask anyway.

"Never mind, Mother," Geta spoke up. "Suffice to say that he was dealt with according to what he deserved."

"Oh." Bulma lifted her son to her shoulder to burp him. "Well, I'm glad that your trip was a success, Vegeta," she said quietly.

Vegeta nodded. "As am I."

The room was quiet for a moment, but Bulma said nothing more about what she should have been glad for. "Okay, now that we're all home safely, where are Bunny and Shatsu?" Anya spoke up. "I'd love a piece of birthday cake."

_Dear, sweet Anya._ "Daddy said Vegeta called and everything was all right, so he and Mom went to a benefit dinner," Bulma reported. "They should be home soon."

Vegeta nodded. "I think I'll get something to eat," he commented. "I haven't had anything since breakfast, and I'm hungry."

"Breakfast was only two hours ago, Pops," Anya teased.

"Yes, but those cooks were definitely not prepared to feed Saiyans," Geta pointed out.

"Tsk, poor starving lads," Anya said with a chuckle. "There's leftovers in the fridge. I already had a peek." She took Geta's arm. "Let's go check on Vegeta." Her intention was clear; she wanted to give the other two occupants of the room some privacy.

Vegeta sat in silence, leaning forward on his chair with his hands between his knees. He stared down at the carpet, not knowing what to say. "I suppose I'll go see what's in the fridge, and maybe train a little," he commented after a particularly long silence. He got up from his chair. "Would you like me to put him in his bed?"

Bulma looked down at her sleepy son, who was yawning and rubbing at his eyes. "Sure, thanks."

Vegeta took their son from her. "No problem." He headed for the door.

"Vegeta?" came her tiny voice.

He turned to look at her. "Yes, Bulma?"

"I... I was really worried about you. I'm glad you're all right," she whispered.

Vegeta felt his heart wrench in his chest. Someday, he'd hold her in his arms again, or die trying. "Thanks." He managed a little smile and left the room before anything else could be said.

* * *

Vegeta stepped out from under the shower and used a burst of ki to dry himself. He'd had a poor training session that evening, and knew that feeling sorry for himself wasn't helping matters. Bulma had been grateful when he'd come back home. She'd told him that she was glad he was all right. He was overreacting.

He'd waited until Bulma's parents had returned, knowing he'd never hear the end of it from Mrs. Briefs if she didn't get to fawn over him and say that she was glad that he was safely home, what a sweet boy he was to do what he had done, and how hungry he must be after all of that. He'd been correct, of course, and had accepted her hugs and kisses along with a hearty, freshly cooked dinner, after which he'd trained for several hours. It was now well into the night, but there was something else he had to do before he went to bed.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, a hooded Capsule Corp sweatshirt, and some thick socks before homing in on his sleeping son's ki. In an instant, he stood beside the crib, looking down at the little boy. It was very close to the agreed upon time, so he scooped the child up.

"Da-ee?" the sleepy boy asked.

"Yes, Son." Hearing the name applied to him spoken by his son warmed Vegeta's heart more than he'd ever imagined it could. Holding VJ close, he left the nursery before his grandson woke up and headed for the kitchen, where he retrieved a bottle from the refrigerator.

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle as VJ reached for the bottle and began to whine when he wasn't able to grab it. "Patience, Vegeta. Let me warm it up for you," he told the impatient boy. He applied just the right amount of ki energy to the bottle, warming its contents to an appropriate temperature before sticking the nipple in his son's mouth. "Greedy child," he teased.

Vegeta headed for the labs and the communication console Bulma had installed there. By the time they arrived, the entire bottle was gone. "I suppose I should get a burp out of you so you don't throw up all over me while I'm showing you off," he commented to his son.

The boy only smiled and babbled, happy now that his tummy was full.

Vegeta let out a sad little chuckle and shook his head. "Your greatest concern is your next feeding, isn't it?" he murmured as he patted his son's back. "I wish I could claim something similar."

"Da-ee," VJ crooned, using a fistful of his father's hair to pull himself up.

"Ah! Son, don't pull Daddy's hair," Vegeta complained, trying to loosen his son's iron grasp from his hair. "All right, you're done. I'm making the call now, got it?" He chuckled again when his son continued to act as happily as if he hadn't been chastised. Nothing ever seemed to bother the boy unless serious displays of negative emotions were involved.

After a few moments the call went through and a servant answered at the other end. ^Inform King Herrón that Prince Vegeta has contacted him as he requested,^ Vegeta instructed the man.

^Ah yes, Highness, he has been expecting you. Right away,^ the servant agreed, bowing briefly before hurrying away.

Vegeta looked down at the baby on his lap and let his lips curve up into the tiniest of smiles. "Well, my son. You will get to see your future father-in-law," he murmured softly. "How about that?"

The baby babbled happily and bounced on its father's lap. Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle still again as he smiled broadly at his son, who had his hands clamped firmly around a finger on each of Vegeta's hands to anchor himself. "Ah, it's not as though you understand anything of the sort right now, but someday you'll live there. He wants to see you."

^Prince Vegeta?^

Vegeta looked up to see the king of Gerdia at the other end of the communication. ^King Herrón.^ He nodded to the older man.

_What a difference a smile makes on that man's face._ ^You're right on time, Prince Vegeta,^ the king commended. ^I am assuming that you were addressing your son earlier?^

^Yes, indeed,^ Vegeta agreed, scooping his son up and lifting him so that he would be in view of the communications screen. ^This is Vegeta.^ Even if he couldn't have seen his face, the pride in the prince's voice was evident.

^Even if I had never met Geta, there would be no doubt whatsoever that this is your son,^ King Herrón acknowledged. He smiled when the boy stuck his fist in his mouth and chewed on it, drooling profusely as he did so. ^I can certainly see the resemblance, right down to the wild hair.^

Vegeta found himself a little surprised by the king's lack of protocol, but then again, he hadn't encouraged anything else and had actually told him to screw royal propriety as far as his wife was concerned. He let out a little snort. ^Wild hair, yes.^ He turned his son and lifted him up to examine him, only to be forced to admit that the child's hair _was_ rather disorderly. It was soft and downy and stuck up wildly, rather than in the sleek, flame-like shape his own obediently adopted. At times, one could even joke that the boy must have been electrocuted, since his hair puffed up so crazily. This was one of those times. He sighed and lowered his son. ^All right, all right,^ he conceded, making the king openly laugh. ^I blame his mother's genes.^

^Yes, of course,^ King Herrón chuckled. ^Never fear, he is an attractive child and I have seen his adult self,^ he said with amusement. ^Eight standard months, you say?^

^Yes. He is teething and of course, drooling all over one of Daddy's favorite shirts, aren't you, Son?^ The Saiyan prince didn't look perturbed in the least but gathered the child up in his arms against his chest. As Vegeta expected, the boy rested his little head down against his shoulder and promptly began to suck his thumb, his other arm draped over his father's collarbone. The smile returned. ^Trust me when I tell you that your daughter is one of the greatest experiences you will ever have,^ he said softly, rubbing little circles along the little boy's back.

King Herrón smiled at the scene before him. Anyone could see the love this man had for his child. If the prince loved the boy's mother as much as he did the boy, he felt for the poor man's loss even more than he had before. ^I believe you,^ he told him seriously. ^I confess, the first time I held my daughter in my arms, I felt something I have never experienced before, something deep inside.^

Vegeta nodded. He knew exactly what the king was talking about. ^I daresay she will probably have you wrapped around her little finger before long,^ he teased.

^Am I receiving an accurate demonstration of what you are referring to?^ King Herrón teased back.

Vegeta paused, but let out a little chuckle. ^I suppose so,^ he admitted. ^He is all I have left, and he deserves a better life than what either Geta or I have had. I mean to make certain of that.^

King Herrón nodded. ^I have no doubt of that,^ he agreed. ^I thank you for this glimpse of your son.^

^It is my pleasure, I assure you.^ Vegeta glanced down at VJ, whose breathing had become deep and even. ^Fast asleep,^ he commented.

^I know it is quite late where you are, so I will end the transmission now,^ King Herrón told him.

Vegeta nodded respectfully. ^ I will keep in touch, Majesty. A pleasant day to you.^

The king returned the nod. ^And a good night to you,^ he responded.

* * *

Vegeta left the nursery and was shutting the door behind him when he detected Anya approaching. "Hey."

"Hey Pops. Checking on the kids?" she asked, tying the belt of her robe closed.

"They're both asleep," he responded. "What are you doing up?"

Anya shrugged. "I woke up and can't fall back asleep. My mind is just racing with everything that's happened in the past couple days."

"I know what you mean," Vegeta murmured, guiding her down the hallway away from the bedrooms. "Let's get some hot chocolate. That should help you sleep."

"Okay." Anya headed for the stairs. "What are you doing up so late, Pops? Training?"

Vegeta nodded as he turned on the kitchen light. "Yes, that and I placed a communicade to Gerdia. Your father hinted that it was a shame that he didn't get to see Vegeta as I got to see your younger self, so I told him that I would place a call to him when it was convenient for him. He'll no doubt be tied up in a lot of legal proceedings for the foreseeable future, so I told him I'd contact him tonight, and that I would be up."

"So he got to meet VJ?" Anya asked.

"Yes. In a manner of speaking." Vegeta put two mugs of water in the microwave to heat.

"Aww, that's so sweet," Anya cooed. "I'm sure he must have liked him. VJ's such a cute baby." She giggled at a sudden thought that came to mind. "I think the crazy hair is hilarious, too."

Vegeta tore the tops off of two packets of cocoa mix. "Oh, not you too," he growled.

Anya placed a hand over her mouth and giggled some more. "He pointed out the hair?"

Vegeta shook his head in resignation and sighed. "Yes." He eyed his daughter-in-law with amusement. "I knew you must have a few of your father's quirks in you, even with your mother's being so dominant. It appears that I have found one."

Anya blushed a little and retrieved their mugs from the microwave. "You mean his attention to detail?" she countered.

Vegeta chuckled and traded her a cocoa for a mug. "Yes, exactly." He sat down at the table and stirred his drink. "So, based on your lack of reaction during that disturbance at the palace, Geta must have told you, hmm?"

"Yes," Anya confirmed, sitting down across from him and taking the spoon to stir her own cocoa. She knew what he was referring to. "Geta told me about your trip into space. He wanted me to understand better why things happened the way they did, and why you've chosen to remain silent, not only about your ascension but the Wethion, too. He said you would understand if he spoke to me about it."

Vegeta nodded and sipped at his cocoa. "I understood the benefits of his informing you of the situation," he agreed. "There would be no misunderstandings between you and no verbal slip-ups. Besides, I did not wish to place the burden of asking him to keep secrets from his wife upon him."

Anya understood his unspoken statement and reached across the table to take his hand. "Pops, please don't keep beating yourself up over what happened," she urged softly. "Let's focus on fixing the problem, instead." She gave his hand a squeeze and got up from the table. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

Vegeta nodded. "I will."

She smiled at him, a trace of sadness on her face, sadness he knew was for him. "I love you, Pops. Good night."

"Good night, Anya." Vegeta stared down into his mug as the door swung shut behind her. She was right. He needed to focus on the future, not the past. He'd always beaten himself up over the past. But tomorrow was a new day.

Kami willing, it would be a good one.


	19. Chapter 19

AN: This chapter marks the beginning of some pretty big turning points in the story. I hope you'll all be pleasantly surprised by what you see. :)

Don't forget to make sure to review and let me know what you think.

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me, even though he thinks that Vegeta's becoming a sissy (boo!).

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

"Well, let's go, big guy. Gram said that this is the day she and Gramps would be there," Vegeta told his son as they headed for the den. "Maybe we'll get to see them on the television."

"Ga! Ga!" VJ exclaimed, bouncing in his father's arms excitedly. During the past month, VJ had surprised his mother by suddenly starting to babble things other than 'Da-ee' and 'Mama' that actually made sense. She'd insisted that nine months was incredibly soon for that, as was the fact that the boy was now pulling himself around using the furniture and eating certain solid foods, until Vegeta had reminded her that a Saiyan baby's development was more rapid than that of a human baby's. After all, why would the Saiyans have sent infants to destroy planets if they had been physically unable to do so?

"Have you seen them yet?" Vegeta asked as he entered the den and sat down with his son.

Anya shook her head. "Nope, not yet, but it's early."

Vegeta pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through his messages. "Bunny e-mailed me a map showing where they're sitting. I'll point them out if I see them."

Bulma frowned a little. Here, _her_ parents had managed to attend a couple days of the winter games, and they keep in touch with _him_ instead of her! What was up with that? "Oh. That's good." She sat back against the loveseat, feeling a little sorry for herself.

"Hey, don't take it like that," Vegeta told her, having picked up on her mood. "I asked where they'd be so I could point them out to the boys, that's all."

Bulma sighed. She hadn't thought to do that herself, as she'd been incredibly busy perfecting and marketing her latest invention. It was a power supply unit meant for commercial use, one which could save corporations thousands of dollars a year in energy costs. She was also looking into the future possibility of expanding their market with a scaled-down version meant for residential use. She had a company lined up who had expressed serious interest in the product, and she'd been in negotiations for weeks with them. "I know. It's no big deal."

"I'm sure your mother didn't mean to slight you in favor of King Kong, Baby," Hiroshi commented, sliding his arm around Bulma's shoulders a little more. "She's probably just excited is all."

"Hiroshi, please," Bulma sighed. What he'd said might have been encouraging had he not thrown in the King Kong remark. He'd been making a lot of those sorts of comments lately, and she was just waiting for Vegeta to finally snap. "That's not necessary."

Hiroshi just shrugged and reached for some popcorn, looking rather satisfied with himself. He shot a smirk Geta's way, as the younger man didn't look very pleased and wasn't hiding his reaction. "Down boy! We wouldn't want to spoil everyone's enjoyable viewing experience, now would we?"

Geta sat back at Anya's gentle prompting, muttering something about being all too happy to give everyone present an enjoyable viewing experience.

"Hiroshi, come on," Bulma complained. "Let's just watch the game."

Vegeta tried to ignore the imbecile, but it was just too difficult. He still couldn't comprehend why Bulma would keep a man who insulted her family and friends around, but whatever. "Vegeta, why don't you come sit with Grandpa and baby Vegeta?" he offered, slipping VJ onto one knee.

The little boy had easily picked up on his father's anger and had been looking at Hiroshi uneasily, unknowingly wondering the same thing his grandfather was- why did Grandma like such a mean man? He brightened and slid off his mother's lap. "Okay, Ganpa!" he said cheerfully as he toddled over to Vegeta, who picked him up and placed him on his other leg.

:Thank you, Pops.:

Vegeta let a little smile out as his grandson curled up against him and began to suck his thumb. :Of course. You just keep your husband under control.:

:I'll do my best,: Anya told him. :I'm not feeling the greatest today, and putting up with what's-his-face makes me want to hurl.:

Vegeta actually let out a little chuckle at that. "I'd say 'sucks to be you' if I didn't know the feeling," he said aloud, grinning when she laughed and leaned over from the sofa to high-five him.

"Oh Pops, you're so funny." Anya giggled and leaned over to grab her bowl of popcorn, placing it on her husband's lap so they could share it.

Bulma knew exactly what was going on- another mental conversation about her boyfriend, and no doubt not something nice. "Vegeta, please."

"Right on time," Vegeta murmured, interrupting Bulma's chastisement. "Arriving in three, two..."

"Hi, Guys!" Goku exclaimed as he, his family, Krillin and Yamcha suddenly appeared in the den.

Everyone except Hiroshi, who couldn't have cared less, greeted the new arrivals. "Hello Kakarrot. I see you've learned how to follow simple directions," Vegeta said with a smirk. "Good thing for you."

Goku had learned the hard way to check with the person he intended to visit before teleporting. Not only had he popped in on Soba and his wife in a compromising situation on Yardrat, but he'd popped in on Vegeta the other day, right after the older Saiyan had gotten into the shower. Needless to say, the poor man had gone home with a good yelling at and a broken nose. When he'd arrived back home and explained what had happened to his wife, she'd given him her lecture about The Importance of Responsibility. He didn't want to repeat either experience. "Ha ha, Vegeta. Funny." Goku scooped some popcorn out of the enormous bowl on the coffee table and parked himself cross-legged on the floor in front of the television as the others sat down on the couch.

"Didn't you want to sit on the couch, Goku? There's plenty of room," Geta offered. Since their family had expanded, the Briefs had deemed it appropriate to replace their couch with one that wrapped around a corner, creating half again as much seating space.

"No, that's okay," Goku responded, cramming popcorn into his mouth. "Hey, look! There's Bunny in the crowd!" he shouted, little fragments of popcorn flying from his lips. He waved at the screen, despite Mrs. Briefs obviously not being able to see him.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Kakarrot, you're such a fool," he muttered. "See, Vegeta? Do you see Gram on the television?" he prompted. Sometimes the fact that both children were named Vegeta actually made things easier rather than utterly confusing. This was one of those times.

"Yeah!" Vegeta shouted. "Lookit, baby Veeta! Lookit Gam!" The boy slid off of Vegeta's lap, disappointed when his great-grandmother disappeared from the screen before he got there. "Awww..."

"That's too bad, Vegeta," Yamcha soothed the pouting little boy. "But I have something for you if your mama says it's okay."

Vegeta immediately forgot about his disappointment and made a beeline over to Yamcha. "What's it?" he asked eagerly. Mr. Yamcha usually had a yummy- the boy's word for a tasty treat- whenever he said he had something for him.

Yamcha waited until Vegeta took the hint and kept his infant son occupied before producing a chocolate chip cookie wrapped in cellophane from his pocket, grinning when the child's eyes became round as saucers. "Want, Mama! Veeta have yummy?" he asked hopefully.

"Okay, but nothing after dinner," Anya decided. "What do we say to Mr. Yamcha?"

"Fank you!" the little boy said, eagerly accepting the cookie.

"Whoa! Whoa!"

Vegeta turned his attention from his grandson to the television, where the yelling was coming from. He frowned. "What exactly is this we're watching?" he asked, unfamiliar with the sport.

"Good line!" came another call from the television.

"It's called curling," Krillin offered. "You score points by getting your stones down to the other end as close to the center of the circle as possible while preventing the other team from doing so."

"They use the brooms to control how fast the stones go," Gohan added. "It actually takes a lot of skill."

"And strategy, too," Chi-Chi spoke up, helping herself to some popcorn.

"Huh." Vegeta glanced down at his son, who was now drifting off to sleep on his lap before watching the game further. Strategy was good. Perhaps it would be an interesting game.

"Yeah, yeah! Hard! Really hard!" one woman bellowed from her spot on the ice.

Vegeta couldn't contain a smirk. He'd teach that insolent bastard touching Bulma too much for his liking a lesson. "Hey, that brings back the memories, doesn't it, Princess?" he quipped, shooting her a wink.

Bulma turned pink. "Vegeta, for Kami's sake," she murmured, but made no move to dispute what he said or chastise him further. She bit at her lip. He was right, damn him, but she'd never admit it.

Vegeta noted with satisfaction of his own that Hiroshi was glaring at him. "Down boy!"

"Listen, you-"

"Whoops, got a text. Hold on," Vegeta interrupted, checking his phone. Momentarily he began to laugh. "Bunny, you naughty woman."

"What's so funny, Pops?" Anya asked, a slow smile spreading over her face.

Vegeta handed her the phone, amused when she began to giggle and Geta chuckled from over her shoulder.

"Okay, what is it, Vegeta?" Bulma asked, her curiosity piqued as the phone got passed to Chi-Chi, who was trying to maintain a disapproving expression but actually laughed nonetheless.

"Here." Yamcha tossed her the phone with amusement, having read the text himself as it made the rounds.

_That's what she said._

"Mother, you watch too much TV," Bulma muttered, a little embarrassed as she returned the phone to Vegeta. Her mother had introduced Vegeta to a program called 'The Workplace,' insisting that he'd find it funny. Despite having stated that someone like him would never work behind a desk- hands-on activities definitely being more his forte- he claimed that he'd known idiots like that on Frieza's ships.

Based on his amusement, evidently he had liked the program, after all.

"Like I said, brings back the memories," Vegeta pretended to reminisce.

Hiroshi got up from the loveseat, in what would soon become evident was a futile effort to be intimidating, and stood over the smirking Saiyan. "Listen you foul-mouthed ape," he snarled, "how dare you make such comments to my girlfriend, and right in front of me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Vegeta stood up and handed his son to Anya. "No, _you_ listen, you stupid, insolent jackass," he snarled back. "I couldn't care less about the garbage which spews forth from your trap regarding me, but how dare _you_ make offensive, degrading comments about Bulma's family and friends when you supposedly care about her? You self-righteous, hypocritical bastard!" he shouted, getting right back in the taller man's face.

"Vegeta, don't!" Bulma cried, leaping up from her seat to separate them. She knew she needed to end this before things got ugly, especially with the children in the room. "We don't need this! Let me talk to him about this, okay?"

Vegeta pursed his lips as he glared at Hiroshi. "For your sake I will not say what is on my mind," he made out through clenched teeth, "but rest assured that I also intend to talk to you about this, Bulma."

"That's a relief. You're obviously deluded," Hiroshi said haughtily.

Vegeta decided not to dignify the cretin with a response but merely continued to glare at him.

Bulma shifted uncomfortably on her feet. The two men were locked in a staring match, and neither seemed inclined in the least to be the one to back down. "Vegeta, Hiroshi, please. This isn't helping anything," Bulma said weakly.

Neither man acknowledged her as they continued staring.

"Hiroshi..." When pleading with her boyfriend failed to yield any results, she attempted another tactic. "Vegeta? Vegeta, look at me, please." She rested a hand on his arm. "Please?"

Vegeta let out a low growl. "This is far from over," he snarled, barely resisting the strong urge to beat the man to a pulp. "I'm going to train. Anyone who feels inclined is welcome to join me. That includes Anya and Chi-Chi," he announced, his eyes still locked with Hiroshi's.

Goku had been close to intervening and got to his feet. "That sounds like a really good idea," he spoke up. "I'll come."

"Me, too," Yamcha added.

Krillin got up from the couch. "Count me in."

"Mom, we'll show you the GR," Gohan offered. "It's really cool."

"I think I'd like that," Chi-Chi agreed.

"I'll put the kids down for a nap and be right out," Geta said, glaring at the man he despised who was dating his mother.

"I'll take them, Honey," Anya told him. "I'd like to lie down for a little bit myself." Truth be told, her stomach was upset and she was afraid she'd be sick again. Whatever she'd eaten yesterday was still not out of her system, and she felt decidedly nasty.

Geta looked a little concerned but didn't comment. "All right. Come on out later if you feel better."

"Will do." Anya held her hand out to her son, who looked a little scared by what had just happened. "Come along, Vegeta. Come take a nap with Mama."

The boy didn't hesitate and let his mother lead him out of the room, the others following suit.

"Well, it was sure nice seeing you again, Bulma," Krillin told her on the way out. "Have a good afternoon."

"Thanks, Krillin. You too." Bulma sat back down on the couch heavily and ran a hand over her face. "Hiroshi, was that really necessary?" she asked tiredly.

Hiroshi turned to her, his arms crossed stubbornly. "How can you blame your ex's bad behavior on me?" he asked irritably. "Everyone controls their own behavior. You know that about him first hand."

Bulma sighed. It took two to tango, but he was in no mood to discuss anything. "I know, but..."

Hiroshi picked up the remote and turned off the television. "Let's get out of here," he said snobbishly. "I don't care to be around that idiot or his equally idiotic son any longer than necessary."

Bulma got back up from the couch. "Hey, Geta's _my_ son too, Hiroshi, and neither of them are idiots," she said defensively.

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. "Fine, sure. Let's just go already."

* * *

Bulma crept into the dark house and hung her coat up in the hall closet. She leaned against the wall, completely out of sorts about the whole day. Although she'd enjoyed the dinner and play they'd gone to, the rest of the day had been less than pleasant, from the ugly altercation that afternoon to the fact that Hiroshi had pressured her to sleep with him again, becoming irritated when she told him that she wasn't ready yet. She sighed. She didn't know if she was not ready so much as she just didn't want to. Why that was, she didn't know.

Or was it, she didn't want to admit the real reason?

Bulma headed up the stairs toward the bedrooms and peeked into the nursery. Both boys were sound asleep so she carefully closed the door and headed for her own room. She paused before reaching it, impulsively cracking one more door open along the way.

Vegeta was lying face down on the pillow, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. She frowned; he'd never snored that badly before. Feeling even worse about herself, she closed the door to Vegeta's room.

All right, okay. Vegeta was a big part of the reason she hadn't slept with Hiroshi. He'd know somehow if she did. She thought about what he'd said that day he'd cornered her in the kitchen. He hadn't relinquished her title, _Princess of Saiyans_. Even though she had every right to date whoever she wanted, she did care about Vegeta's feelings and knew he would be crushed.

Bulma flopped down her bed, uncaring of the fact that she still wore her good clothes. Trying to push the thoughts racing through her brain away, she slipped under the covers and rolled over.

* * *

Vegeta slumped against the shower wall, cold water rushing over him as he struggled to revive his higher brain functions. He'd had far too much to drink the night before but he really needed to wake up, since Bulma had an early morning appointment and Geta had already gone out to the GR to train. He knew that Anya wasn't feeling the greatest, but even if that hadn't been the case it wouldn't be fair to expect her to watch both children so he could sleep it off.

He sighed and turned off the water. The boys would be up soon, and he intended to drink at least an entire pot of coffee before that happened, just so he'd be able to function.

After trudging to the kitchen he got out a large bowl into which he poured an entire box of cereal, feeling too lazy to cook for himself, and sat down with the coffee pot. Since Geta was training he thought he might catch a little more of those ridiculous winter games, unwilling to admit that he was actually beginning to like watching them. It would be evening in the East, but he knew the hockey games wouldn't start until evening. Perhaps he'd catch the game Western Country was playing in, especially since Bulma's friend Yamcha claimed to know one of the defensemen on the team. Why that mattered he didn't know.

Vegeta shrugged and put his bowl in the sink, feeling much better with food in his stomach and caffeine flowing through his veins. Maybe today wouldn't totally suck. After all, Bulma had spent all day yesterday with the jackass, so hopefully that meant he wouldn't be around today. He was just about to go into the den to watch television when he heard a sound he was most definitely not unfamiliar with coming from the bathroom down the hall. "Anya?"

* * *

"Ohhh..." Anya moaned pitifully and pushed herself away from the toilet, tucking her long hair behind her ears as she slumped back against the bathroom wall. She'd gotten sick yesterday and the day before and had dismissed it as something she'd eaten, but this was lasting far too long. She wiped her face with a towel. _The last time I felt this bad was when I was pregnant with Vegeta. I must be pregnant again. I can't imagine what _else_ could make me so sick._

She heard someone rapping lightly against the hallway side of the bathroom door. "Anya? Are you all right in there?"

Anya reached up to unlock the door before leaning back over to flush the toilet. "Yeah, Pops, I'm fine." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair tiredly as he opened the door enough to peek in. She looked up at him and gave him a shaky little smile.

The undeniable scent of vomit assaulted Vegeta's nose and he frowned. "Are you sick?" he asked, coming in and looking down at her with concern.

Anya shrugged. "I- I don't think so. I think I'm pregnant, actually." She blushed when he raised an eyebrow. "I haven't been this sick since I carried Vegeta." She chewed at the edge of her lower lip. "Could you, well, I guess you could say, check for me?"

There was a brief pause. "Did you want to know the child's sex?" Vegeta asked straightforwardly.

A tinge of pink returned to her cheeks. "Sure," she responded softly.

"Female." Vegeta pulled a little paper cup from the dispenser next to the sink and offered his daughter-in-law some water. "Here, sip it."

"Female. A little girl. I'm going to have a little girl!" Anya took the water gratefully. "Thanks Pops." Her eyes shone happily.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, making her giggle. "Congratulations, Anya."

Anya's smile quickly deteriorated as she lunged for the toilet again. He reached down to hold her hair back for her and rubbed her shoulder gently.

"Don't tell Geta, okay? I want to tell him myself." Anya sighed, tired beyond belief.

"Of course you should be the one to tell him," Vegeta agreed. "I'm sure he will be pleased."

She smiled shyly and pushed herself to her feet. "I hope so."

"Don't be ridiculous," Vegeta scolded. "Why wouldn't he be? He said he was ecstatic when you told him about Vegeta."

"I know. Vegeta's not very old yet, and I guess I'm just nervous about having two little lives dependent upon me for everything. I'm excited about this baby, don't get me wrong, but..." Anya bit at her lip.

"Anya, anyone can see that you're a good mother and I know my son is very pleased with you as his wife," Vegeta assured her. "You are worrying needlessly."

Anya's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Thanks, Pops." She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, sniffling against his shoulder.

Vegeta hesitated for a minute, then returned the hug, patting her back gently. "Shhh… you'll do just fine."

She nodded and drew away, sniffling again, then reeled slightly. "Ohhh, Kami…" She closed her eyes, covering her mouth with one hand and turning a rather putrid shade of green.

Vegeta's hand shot out to steady her. "Anya?" he asked worriedly. "Can I get you anything?"

She opened her eyes. "Just… you."

Vegeta looked at her as if she'd asked for a slug sandwich with all the fixings. "What?"

"Keeping in contact with Geta always made me feel at least somewhat better," she explained. "For some reason, your ki is even more effective. I would have thought it would be the other way around, since Geta is the baby's father. Maybe it's because he's half Saiyan and you're 100 percent." She sighed. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

"Sure… no problem. Not until your husband notices, anyway."

"Oh, don't you worry about it. I'll take care of him. He's training right now, anyway."

* * *

"Anya?"

"In the den, Sweetie!"

Geta trudged into the den, sweaty and covered in grime and blood. "I'm going to take a shower. Care to join…" He trailed off as he saw his wife sitting on the couch watching the television.

Also sitting with her was his father, who looked pretty darn cozy, seeing as he was sitting quite close and had his arm resting rather casually around her bare shoulders. "Son."

Anya looked up from the television and smiled. "Sure, sounds like _fun_," she agreed, winking naughtily at him. "The game will be over in… how much longer, Pops?"

Vegeta smirked; the time remaining was displayed quite prominently on the screen. "Oh, I'd guess the last five minutes will take fifteen minutes or so." He let his hand drop down on her shoulder.

"In fifteen minutes, Honey. If you don't want to watch, why don't you go upstairs and wait for me, hmm?" Anya smiled sweetly at her husband.

Geta clenched his jaw, his eyes glued to Vegeta's arm; his position seemed to be quite deliberate. What the hell was his father doing, anyway? "Are you sure you don't want to come now?"

:Oh, he's fuming!:

:I have to admit, this is fun.:

:You're so bad, Pops.:

:I know.:

"Hey, what's the rush?" Vegeta asked grumpily. "Can't you see she's watching the game?" He flipped to another channel where another sport was in progress.

"Aww, Pops! I was watching that- ooh, maybe they'll show the results of yesterday's games," Anya squealed, sitting up for a closer view of the screen. "If Western Country wins today, they'll medal for sure!"

"Hey, sit back so I can see too, Anya." Vegeta drew her back against the couch again and readjusted his arm around her shoulders. "There, that's better." He grinned at his son, who looked like he was about to blow his top, and raised an eyebrow.

"All right, what the-"

"Oooh! Geta, I almost forgot!" Anya exclaimed, bouncing once on the couch in her exuberance as she sat up straight. "Guess what?"

"What?" her bewildered husband nearly wailed.

"Remember how we were discussing my heritage not too long ago, and I mentioned that I am 100 percent Gerdian?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I just found out that I actually _do_ have a little Saiyan in me. Isn't that something?"

Geta frowned. "That's absurd. How could you have even a little… Saiyan…" His eyes got big as saucers and his jaw disengaged slightly as it occurred to him just how that impossible statement could be true.

The pair on the couch exchanged a grin.

"Well, I'll let you take over, Son. This is your doing, anyway." Vegeta patted his daughter-in-law on the shoulder and extricated his arm from behind her. "Congratulations again, Kiddo." He got up from the couch and poked his stunned son in the ribs as he passed by, smirking.

Anya blushed. "Thanks Pops. Now, shoo!" When he was gone, she patted the couch beside her. "Come here, Sweetie."

Geta obeyed blindly and sank down onto the couch. He took the hand she offered and stared at her, dumbfounded. "An-Anya… are you saying you're… you're…"

"Pregnant?" she whispered. "Yes. Pops came across me sick in the bathroom again today, so I asked him to check and he confirmed it for me." She squeezed Geta's hand. "You're a daddy again."

"You're pregnant," he breathed, reaching out with his ki and feeling the baby's for himself. A huge grin spread over his face. She was pregnant, and with a daughter, just the situation he'd imagined. "You're pregnant! I'm going to be a father again!" He swept her up in his arms and held her close. "Oh, Anya! That's _wonderful!_" he exclaimed, kissing her enthusiastically. He broke the kiss and jumped up from the couch. "I've got to tell Mother! Does anyone else know? I-"

"Whoa, calm down there, stud muffin," Anya objected, grabbing his hand. "Bulma's only working until lunch today, so she'll be home in a couple hours. Meanwhile, I seem to recall you owing me a shower." Her mouth quirked up in a sultry little smile.

A rather foolish grin spread across his face. "_Oh_, yeah..."

* * *

Anya and Geta had just finished getting the boys a snack when Bulma walked in, Hiroshi right behind her. "Hi, guys!" she greeted them cheerily. She spied her infant son, who was sitting in his high chair next to Anya, and scooped him up. "How's Mama's big boy?"

"Hungry," Anya supplied. "He just had a bottle _and_ a jar of peaches, didn't you Sweetie?"

"Goodness, you were hungry, weren't you?" Bulma cuddled her son, who cooed happily at her. "So, what happened around here today? Anything exciting for a change?" She eyed her adult son. "All right, what did you do? You look like the cat that ate the canary."

Unable to contain his glee any longer, Geta leapt up from his chair and rushed over to his mother. "Mother, guess what? Anya's pregnant! I'm going to be a dad again! I'm so excited!" The news came out of his mouth so quickly that Bulma couldn't understand him.

Bulma gaped at him. "Whoa, slow down there! You sound like an excited little kid in a candy store. Why don't you rewind that and play it back at normal speed?" She grinned at him.

Geta gave her a sheepish little grin. "Sorry... I'm just _so_ excited. Anya's pregnant! I'm a dad again!"

Bulma shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh, Honey, how absolutely _wonderful!_" she exclaimed, giving him and Anya hugs. She turned to Hiroshi. "Isn't this exciting, Hiroshi?"

"Hmph." Hiroshi turned up his nose. "How nice for you. Another little alien monstrosity to feed."

"Oh!" Anya gasped, her eyes filling with tears. Normally she'd either smart off right back at him or even ignore him, but this was her baby he was talking about! While she hadn't expected anything constructive to come out of Hiroshi's mouth, the very thought of someone thinking of her and Geta's child as a monstrosity hurt more than she ever thought possible.

Bulma let out a gasp of her own. "Hiroshi!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How could you say such a thing?"

Hiroshi shrugged apathetically. "Personally, I _detest_ children." The double meaning behind his words was clear.

"Hiroshi..." The hurt and devastation on Bulma's face was evident.

Geta gave him a dirty look. "Thank you for your kind words, you sick-"

"Geta." Vegeta's tone was clearly a warning.

Geta turned to see his father standing in the doorway holding his son and looking none too happy himself. "Father, he has no right-"

Vegeta held up a hand to silence him. :This is for your mother to handle. Do not make it any more difficult for her to deal with.:

Geta stared at his father for a minute, then let out his breath in an angry huff. "Fine." He put his arms around his upset wife and held her close. He glared at Hiroshi, the look on his face saying that the conversation wasn't over.

Bulma looked on in shock. She knew that Hiroshi didn't like Vegeta and wasn't particularly fond of Geta or the babies, but he didn't have to be so cold and rude about it.

One of those babies was her grandson. But even if Geta and Anya moved into their own home, the other baby was her _son_. She didn't want VJ to be harassed and picked on to the point that he'd hate himself, especially on account of being Saiyan. _What if Vegeta was right, and Hiroshi _does_ do something awful to my baby?_ VJ could sense the tension in the room and was whimpering. She clutched him tightly to her chest, stroking his soft hair comfortingly as she looked at Hiroshi, who seemed pretty pleased with himself. _And here I thought if we stayed together... He obviously doesn't want kids._

Vegeta had been watching Bulma intently and frowned at the obvious distress on her face. He had seen Hiroshi upset Bulma in the past, but this time there was a definite difference. Whereas Vegeta had seen Hiroshi make his son made the object of insults in the past, now VJ's well-being was on the line. Vegeta didn't take too kindly to that. :Here, take the boy,: he told Geta, slipping him Vegeta. He walked over to Bulma.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice.

Bulma nodded and held VJ even closer. "Yeah, of course." She gave him a forced little smile. "Why do you ask?"

Vegeta felt like telling her not to take him for a fool but knew better than that. "Oh, Anya seems pretty upset. Maybe you could talk to her. You know, woman to woman talk."

Bulma gave him an inquisitive little look. She'd never expected him to suggest something like that. "That's a good idea," she whispered, heading over to her son and daughter-in-law. "Hey, chin up, Sweetheart."

"Mother! Did you or did you not hear what he said?" Geta demanded.

"Geta, _please_," Bulma pleaded.

"Mama, no boo-hoo." Vegeta patted at his mother's face gently. "Wuv you."

Anya smiled, her lower lip wobbling. "I love you too, sweet boy." She was offered and accepted a wet baby kiss from her son. "Oh, thank you!" Anya couldn't help but giggle. How could anyone see this little boy and the joy he had brought to their lives as anything other than a treasure to be cherished?

"Why don't we take the kids for a walk, Mother, all right?" Geta could easily see through his mother's front. Getting away from the situation was the best thing to do at the moment; not only was it a beautiful day out, but he knew that Hiroshi wouldn't deign to accompany them. "Wait... Where's Father?"

"Ganpa go bye-bye. Poof!" Vegeta tapped one chubby little hand against his forehead, then repeated the motion. "Poof! Ha ha!"

"Oh no..." Bulma's eyes got as big as saucers. Had Vegeta done what she thought he had while her back was turned? There was no other explanation, for now there were only _three_ adults and two children in the room.

"What is it, Bulma?" Anya asked, concerned. "Hey, did Hiroshi leave?"

"Precisely," Bulma whispered. _I think your father-in-law may finally have had enough._

* * *

"Mama, no boo-hoo." Vegeta patted at his mother's face gently. "Wuv you."

Vegeta discretely stepped over to where Hiroshi was standing. "I'd like a word with you. In private."

"If you have something to say to me, say it right here and now," Hiroshi insisted stubbornly.

"Well, I don't know about that. In fact..."

The next thing the arrogant businessman knew, he was standing in the backyard beside the GR.

"...I'd rather not."

"You teleported us to the back yard! How dare you touch me, you addle-brained orangutan?" Hiroshi demanded snidely.

"Oozaru," Vegeta corrected his hated adversary, mentally counting backwards from 100 in some obscure alien tongue he'd learned as a child. He figured that there was no point in telling Hiroshi that he wasn't such a slump in the brains department; he'd taken a test online after he'd gotten his laptop which had proclaimed him a genius. Although he himself doubted the validity of such tests, he _had_ been able to correctly solve all ten 'advanced' level problems. He'd even noted an error in one of Bulma's own calculations while visiting the lab and casually changed it when no one was looking on more than one occasion. "Once the Dragonballs are renewed and I wish back my tail, I'll show you," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "although I'd hardly need Oozaru to rid myself of the likes of you."

Hiroshi narrowed his eyes at the Saiyan, who was actually doing quite a remarkable job of keeping his cool. "I'll bet you'd just love that," he snapped. "Were you not able to comprehend what I said about saying your piece in the kitchen?"

"Didn't you think that Bulma looked upset enough as it was?" Vegeta countered. "I refuse to make a scene and upset her or my daughter-in-law any further." He turned to the other man. "Look, I'm very well aware that you hate me, and I'm sure you're quick enough to guess that I'm not too fond of _you_ myself. Say and do what you want to me; I couldn't care less. Just leave my children and grandchildren out of your comments."

"How sweet. Give me one good reason why I should even consider doing that," Hiroshi shot back snidely.

Vegeta gave Hiroshi a dumbfounded look. Was he really that stupid, or did he just simply _not_ care, even about Bulma's feelings? They'd even gone over this the day before, for Kami's sake! "You seem to have forgotten that my son's mother just so _happens_ to be the woman you profess to care for. I reiterate- did you not see the look on her face when you said what you did? I can't stand seeing her hurting because of you, especially when you degrade our son. If for no other reason, do it for her."

"Excuse me? You have the gall to accuse _me_ of hurting Bulma when _you_ nearly destroyed her life a few months ago? She hardly smiled before I came into her life, and that was solely because of _you_. She's with a much better man now. Don't delude yourself by thinking otherwise." Hiroshi crossed his arms, smirking cruelly at the shorter man.

Vegeta clenched his jaw. "Now look who's got gall. I admit that I hurt Bulma and not a day goes by that I don't feel regret and hatred of myself over that. At least I was man enough to admit my mistake and the thought of hurting her again pains me, which is why I am having this conversation with you and why I am doing it out here instead of in front of her. Seeing her hurt when you make disparaging comments in front of her about her family and friends just angers and disturbs me to no end." Now it was Vegeta's turn to cross his arms and give Hiroshi a cold glare.

Hiroshi shook his head condescendingly. "Nice speech, King Kong. You're so full of it, and even more full of yourself. I suggest that you do us all a favor and take your head out of your butt so you can listen to yourself. What a hypocrite you are. If _you_ actually cared for Bulma even half as much as you claim to, you would be _man_ enough," he repeated mockingly, "to get out of her life before you completely ruin it. Then none of us will have to see the pain _you're _the cause of on her face."

Vegeta's fists were tightly balled, his face red with anger. "For not the first time, I am holding back both my tongue and my hand, and _only_ for Bulma's sake. Consider this conversation over, and an advisory to leave my family out of your own cruel delusions." He turned his back to Hiroshi, arms tightly crossed. "You know your way off of the complex."

Hiroshi snorted. "Do not even begin to fantasize that you can force me to leave. I am, however, compelled to do so in order to rid myself of the repulsive company of you and your spawn." With that, Hiroshi turned on his heel and strode away haughtily. "Inform Bulma that I'll be by at 5:00 to collect her for dinner."

When he was certain Hiroshi was gone, Vegeta levitated to the roof of the GR and sat down. Heaving a strangled sigh, he dropped his head into his hands. It had taken every ounce of strength he had not to kill the man and scatter his remains at the far corners of the universe. He was so angry that his hands shook, a growl rumbling in his chest. "Kami damn it..."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, drawing in deeply. As he exhaled, he suddenly realized that Bulma had approached and was standing beside the GR. "If you're here to rip me a new orifice for harassing your boyfriend, I... I'm listening. I shouldn't have touched the man," he said in a low, defeated voice before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"N-no, I'm not," came her whispered reply. "I..." _I heard what you said, and it was all true. Just say it, Bulma._ "Vegeta, why are you smoking? I've never known you to smoke."

Vegeta took one last drag and lit a second cigarette from the first one, which he then disintegrated. "Oh, it's a bad habit I took up recently," he said in a voice that couldn't completely hide the bitterness he felt. "It helps soothe my nerves. Better than the alternative." He snorted in disgust. "My hands've been clean for a while now, if you get my meaning. Not since..." He stopped dead in mid-sentence. "Anyway, it's only outside and _never_ near the boys. You don't need to worry about that."

"You... I know you don't get sick like humans do, but you never know what cigarettes could do even to your physiology. I had trouble quitting and I'm having an even harder time getting Daddy to quit." Bulma bit her lip. "Listen, Vegeta, I'm sorry you heard what Hiroshi said earlier. It was completely uncalled for, and I-"

"No, Woman. I don't want you apologizing for what someone else said," Vegeta interrupted gruffly. He disintegrated the second cigarette too, then, perusing the pack, crushed it in his hand before it disappeared in a burst of ki. "You're right about these damn things. I've had a lousy training session since I started on them."

When Bulma's only response was a small sigh, Vegeta looked down to see her trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. "Bulma, please don't... I can't stand to see you cry, especially because of me." He got up and lowered himself to the ground next to her. "I hate seeing such a pretty face streaked with tears." He reached out and gently wiped her tears away with his hand, wanting nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her close.

_Dearest Kami, what _am_ I doing? Why am I constantly second guessing myself about Hiroshi? He cares about me! I can work this out with him. But he doesn't make me feel the way Vegeta is right now. Does he really mean what he just said?_ "Vegeta, I'm not crying because of you," she whispered.

"Shhh... let's not talk about it any more," Vegeta suggested. "We should make sure that Anya's all right."

Bulma nodded in agreement. "She shouldn't have so much stress, especially this early in her pregnancy. It's extremely bad for the baby."

This time Vegeta did grab her hands in his. "Bulma... I'm sorry that because of my foolish pride I missed out on so many things I could have experienced when you carried Vegeta. It was all my own doing and I hurt you by my neglect." His thumbs rubbed over her small hands gently. "I took for granted that which I should have recognized as truly an honor and privilege, the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I could have been there to watch the swell of your belly grow, to rest my ear against it to hear our son's heart beating, to feel the early flutters of his movements become strong, healthy kicks, to hold your hand while you gave birth, but I didn't. And just the thought of it now..." He shook his head, a combination of obvious disgust with himself, longing and regret on his face.

Bulma's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Vegeta..."

"The worst part is that I'll probably never-" Again, he cut himself off abruptly and let go of Bulma's hands, blushing slightly.

Bulma blushed, catching the meaning behind his statement. "Don't say that. You never know what direction your life will take." Her eyes widened as she realized how what she said sounded. "I mean, maybe someday you'll meet-"

"No," Vegeta interrupted. "That will never happen. My heart is already spoken for." Unable to look at her, he turned quickly and headed for the house.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, hugging her arms around herself. A tear trickled down her cheek.

* * *

Vegeta closed the nursery door to find Mrs. Briefs approaching. "Bunny."

"Are they asleep, Dear?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He nodded. "Out like two little lights."

The blonde woman giggled. He was so cute! "Come along then, I have something to show you," she instructed.

"What is it?" Vegeta asked, following her into her bedroom. "More ski equipment?"

"I'm going to get you out on those slopes whether you like it or not, Dear," Mrs. Briefs informed him as she retrieved a capsule from her nightstand. "I'm sure you'll just love skiing once you give it a chance."

"Okay..."

Mrs. Briefs laughed upon seeing the skeptical expression on his face. "Oh, no... regular skiing is nothing like what you saw at the winter games on TV," she assured him. "It's actually fun and it'll give you a great workout. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

While the idea of a great workout highly appealed to him, Vegeta still didn't know if he wanted to go. He'd never done anything of the sort, and he didn't like the cold and snow at all. But it wouldn't kill him to go simply to make the woman happy, since she tried so hard to please him. He'd learned that the hard way with Bulma, and was paying for it in spades. "I suppose I could give it a try."

Mrs. Briefs beamed at him. "Wonderful! But meanwhile, I got this for you since you've been spending so much time indoors lately." She handed him the capsule. "By the way, are you sure you wouldn't like me to watch little VJ for you now and then while you train?" She knew that since Bulma had been in meetings so much, Vegeta had been giving up a lot of his training time to watch his son.

"No, it's all right," Vegeta assured her. "I can mind him. Besides, the GR is broken right now, so it's pretty pointless to train there." He didn't want to add any burden to Mrs. Briefs or anyone else when he was perfectly able to take care of his own child. He enjoyed spending time with the happy baby, who was oftentimes the only joy in his miserable life. Besides, he didn't need to give Bulma's boyfriend any more fuel for his 'lazy, good for nothing mooching loser' fire. He got enough insults as it was, and while he didn't care, the man's behavior would only continue to bring the rest of the household grief.

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "All right, but don't forget that my offer is always good."

"Thanks." Vegeta held up the capsule. "Should I open this now?"

"Oh my, yes!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "I almost forgot." She giggled.

Vegeta opened the capsule with amusement but found himself surprised by what was inside. "A guitar?"

She nodded. "You're very talented at everything you've ever set your mind to do, and I think you'll be good at this too. Besides, playing music can be very therapeutic. I always love playing my piano."

Vegeta had seen the blonde woman play on numerous occasions and had always gotten the impression that she enjoyed it. He needed a little enjoyment in his life, and as long as he wasn't training, he might as well pick up a useful hobby. "Sure, I'll try it." He examined the instrument. "Do you know how to play?"

"No, but I know there are some instructional videos on demand if you want to watch them," she told him. "I'll help you find them if you like."

Before he knew it, she'd bookmarked several videos for him on his personal television, and he perched himself on the foot of his bed to watch them. "This doesn't seem all that complicated," he mused, picking up the guitar.

* * *

Vegeta jumped a little when a knock on the door startled him. He'd been so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn't even noticed the ki approaching. "Come in."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door and smiled. He was still using the guitar; hopefully it had been a good choice. "Dinner is almost ready, Dear. I was hoping you could lend me a hand with it. The arthritis in my wrist is acting up and pulling the turkey out of the oven is a little difficult right now."

Vegeta immediately got to his feet. Had he really been playing around with the guitar for that long? "Say no more, Bunny. You should have asked me to help you sooner."

Mrs. Briefs tsked and waved her hand in dismissal of his chastisement. "It's all right. Besides, it looks like you've been enjoying your new guitar. Did you watch any of the videos yet?"

Vegeta nodded. "Yes. I think I have the general concept down."

"Already?" Mrs. Briefs seemed surprised. "Show me what you learned."

"Very well." Vegeta picked up the guitar and strummed out a few chords that would have typically taken the average new student several lessons to learn. "This song was on one of the lessons."

Mrs. Briefs' eyes grew wide when he began to play Smoke on the Water with ease. "You've... you've never played before, ever?"

"No, why?"

Mrs. Briefs took the guitar from him and placed it on the bed, then grabbed his hand to haul him from the room. "Dinner can wait."

"Wait for what?" Turkey dinner had to be one of his favorite meals, and he was hungry. Why would they wait to eat?

"Shatsu, Vegeta and I need to run out for a bit. The turkey is done. Don't wait on dinner for us!" Mrs. Briefs hollered as she herded the confused Saiyan toward the door.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they situated themselves into her vehicle.

"A very nice music store," she informed him as she started the car. "If we eat first, they'll close before we can get there." She pulled out of the garage and headed down the long driveway.

"All right, but why don't we just go tomorroooooow!" Vegeta suddenly realized just how Gohan must have felt while he was the passenger in Bulma's Ferrari as he clung to the armrests for dear life. She hadn't driven this way when they'd gone furniture shopping! Now he knew where Bulma got her need to drive fast from. "Bunny?"

"It's all right, Dear. But if we don't hurry, they'll close before we get a chance to look at things." Mrs. Briefs raced down the driveway and whipped out into the street as casually as if she were watering her plants, humming to herself as she drove. "We'll be there in no time at all, you'll see."

* * *

"I really don't know about this, Bunny." Vegeta got off of the ski lift and shuffled over to the edge of the hill.

"Oh, pish-posh. You'll be just fine," Mrs. Briefs assured him. "Just remember what I told you. It's easy, see?" With that, the blonde woman pushed off and headed down the hill.

"What's the matter, monkey boy?" Hiroshi taunted, skiing up behind him. "You're not _scared_, are you?"

Vegeta scowled at the fool, who Bulma had insisted should come with them. "No, I'm not scared," he growled. "I just hate snow, and I hate the cold even more."

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. "You're such a wussy boy. Here, I'll show you how it's done."

"Oh Hiroshi, that's so sweet of you," Bulma offered, not having heard her boyfriend's earlier comments.

Hiroshi gave her a doting smile and a kiss, knowing he'd irritate her ex. "Anything for you, my dear," he purred. "All right, for starters, you have to go down the hill, like this."

While Vegeta had expected a demonstration, he had not expected Hiroshi to place a hand between his shoulders and give him a firm shove, sending him over the edge. "Hey, what the hell are you- ahhhhh!"

Hiroshi laughed as the Saiyan wobbled downhill full speed forward on his skis, a series of rather colorful expletives directed at him spewing forth from his mouth as he did so. "See, I knew you could do it, monkey boy! Good job!" he yelled, earning a glare from Bulma.

"Hiroshi, he wasn't ready!" Bulma scolded. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Aww, he's fine," Hiroshi continued to laugh. "There's nothing Mr. Perfect can't do, remember?"

"That was still rude of you, and you know it- Vegeta! Vegeta, watch out for the..." She sighed. "...tree. Great."

Hiroshi shrugged. "At least he only caught it with his ski rather than crashing straight on into it," he commented nonchalantly.

"Uh! You're impossible." Bulma quickly made her way down the hill and stopped next to Vegeta, who was growling and cursing as Mrs. Briefs attempted to help him to his feet, her task awkward since he had one ski on and one off. "Are you okay, Vegeta?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine," Vegeta responded, completely embarrassed by what had just happened, especially since the jerk was still laughing at him. Aside from the cursing, he was sure he must've sounded reminiscent of a six-year-old girl who'd seen a bug when he'd yelled on his way down the hill.

Bulma bit at her lip to keep from giggling and planted her poles in the snow, reaching up to brush the snow from his hair and coat. "Mom, would you mind finding Vegeta's ski and poles, please?"

"Of course, Dear," Mrs. Briefs agreed, immediately getting the point and leaving them alone.

"Stupid bastard-"

Bulma placed a finger over his lips to quiet him. "Vegeta, are you going to let one little fall turn you into a quitter?" she asked, smiling at him.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "Bulma, this was a mistake. I hate winter," he complained, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I hate this skiing business too."

"You know, he wouldn't mind it in the least if you sat in the car and pouted the whole time, or decided to teleport yourself back home." Bulma raised an eyebrow at him.

Vegeta opened his mouth, then closed it. "You're right," he told her, giving her a smirk and a kiss on the cheek, very well aware that the 'he' she had referred to was watching. "Just one question."

"What's that?" Bulma asked, blushing a little from the knowledge that her boyfriend had undoubtedly witnessed his seemingly innocent kiss, which she knew quite well was anything but innocent.

That, and she was forced to admit that she had liked the attention.

Vegeta leaned in close, as if to pose a confidential question. "How do I stop on these things?"

* * *

"See? I just knew you'd like skiing, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs declared. "You only needed to stop being grumpy about it and give it a try."

Vegeta sighed as he peeled off his coat and boots. "Yes, you did say that, Bunny," he concurred, knowing it was useless to do anything other than agree with the insistent woman. Besides, he'd be lying if he said she wasn't right. Once he'd gotten the hang of it, he'd actually had fun.

Now, that was a new concept for him- fun that didn't involve anyone getting hurt. He almost sighed but held it in.

"You got Vegeta to ski, Bunny?" Dr. Briefs asked, putting his paper down.

"You should have seen him, Dear! He's a natural," Mrs. Briefs gushed. "Such a smart, talented young man you are." She kissed Vegeta's cheek, giggling as the young man blushed despite himself.

"Yeah, yeah," Vegeta grumbled, picking up his gear. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll bring Vegeta in with me, Bulma." He headed for the door. "Nice skiing with you, Takashita." He smirked and left the kitchen.

"I'd like to take him ice skating," Mrs. Briefs continued thoughtfully. "I'll bet he'd be good at that, too. Oooh, maybe we could try hang gliding once it gets warm."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "One thing at a time, honey Bunny," he told her, not bothering to mention that there was no reason for a man who could fly under his own power to want to go hang gliding.

"We'll see." Mrs. Briefs opened the oven and sniffed as the wonderful smell of glazed ham wafted out. "Oh my, but this smells good," she commented. "I suppose I should start on the rest of dinner. Bulma, would you mind scrubbing some potatoes for me while I make my pies?"

"Mom, Hiroshi and I were going to go out for dinner," Bulma began, but didn't get far as her mother would have nothing of it.

"Oh, don't be silly, Dear," Mrs. Briefs chastised. "Anya was nice enough to put this lovely ham in the oven, and you already spent all day with Hiroshi. You can spend a little time with your family tonight, can't you?"

"But..." Bulma stopped. Her mother was right. Anya didn't feel well and had gone through the trouble of helping out that day. It would be unappreciative of the younger woman if she didn't have dinner at home. Besides, she'd hardly even seen her baby that day. "That's fine, Mom. Hiroshi, do you like sweet potatoes or white?" she asked, opening the pantry.

"I hate potatoes," Hiroshi said snidely. "I won't be staying for dinner."

"Oh, that's too bad," Mrs. Briefs responded, not sounding disappointed in the slightest. "Well, have a nice evening, Hiroshi. Bye, now."

Hiroshi hadn't planned on leaving so soon and looked a little affronted. "I'll see you around, Bulma," he growled as he headed for the front door.

"Bye-bye, Dear!" Mrs. Briefs sang, not concerned in the least that the man had deliberately tracked dirty water through the kitchen on his way out.

"Mom! That was rude," Bulma objected.

"Are there enough potatoes?" Mrs. Briefs asked brightly as she scooped some pumpkin filling into a bowl.

"Mom!" It was then that Bulma noticed her father hiding behind his newspaper, which shook slightly in his hands. "Dad, it's not funny!"

Dr. Briefs put the paper down again and removed his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. "You're right, Pumpkin," he told her. "I'm glad you had a fun day."

"Ugh!" Bulma plunked a sack of potatoes on the counter and huffed out of the kitchen.

"Oh, I'll do that for you, Bunny," Dr. Briefs offered, getting up and joining his wife at the counter.

"Thank you, Dear. You're such a sweet young man. I'm glad you like potatoes." They both burst into laughter.

* * *

Vegeta put his freshly bathed and dressed son on the bed and opened his nightstand, revealing a whole slew of capsules. "So, what should Daddy try next, Vegeta?" he asked the wide-eyed baby. "We have a saxophone here. How about that?"

The baby let out a little huff of disapproval.

Vegeta chuckled. "I suppose you're right. You didn't seem to like the trombone yesterday, either." He shuffled around some more. "Violin? Harmonica? Flute?" he asked, holding up the capsules.

"Ohhh!" The baby bounced and waved his arms up and down.

Vegeta chuckled, knowing what the gestures his son was making meant. "Daddy doesn't know how to play the piano, Vegeta. You'll have to wait for Gram to play with you."

VJ let out another little huff and began pouting, his tiny lip protruding in defiance. "No!"

Ah, the child's newest word: _no_. Usually his mother was pleased when he said something new, but this word was one that she could live without. His father felt no differently. "You stop that, now," he chastised. "Don't be a little brat."

The boy's lip wobbled.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and sat down next to his son. "Come on, now. I'll play you a song, okay?" He picked up his guitar, the instrument he'd become the most comfortable with that made the least amount of noise.

* * *

Mrs. Briefs stopped outside Vegeta's bedroom door to listen. She could hear random notes coming from inside but couldn't tell what was being played. Smiling, she knocked on the door.

"Come in, Bunny."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door to see Vegeta with the baby in his lap and guitar in his hands. Her smile broadened. Vegeta was such a good father. "I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready, Dear."

"Thank you, Bunny." Vegeta put his guitar on a stand beside the bed and scooped up his son. "Let's go eat some dinner, hmm? Then maybe Gram will play you a song on the piano if you're a good boy."

Mrs. Briefs laughed when the boy bounced and waved his hands in a playing gesture as he had earlier. "Oh, I think we could have a song or two before you go to bed," she assured her grandson, taking him from his father and snuggling him close. "Oh, but you're such a darling boy," she cooed, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Gram just loves you bunches, you know that..."

Vegeta followed her as she headed for the kitchen. So much had happened even in the past month, except, that is, the one thing he really, truly wanted. Hopefully he could be patient long enough for Bulma to see that he was really, truly trying.

* * *

"So, here's where the addition will be," Dr. Briefs said, gesturing at the Capsule Corp building with his hands. "I think everyone will be pleased, including the employees and our household. In fact, I think you'll be especially pleased." He gave the Saiyan standing next to him a sideways glance.

Vegeta returned the glance. "Oh?" he asked inquisitively.

"Indeed, my boy." Dr. Briefs pulled a thick set of blueprints out from under one arm and unrolled it. "Can you tell what this section is?"

Vegeta craned his neck a little and leaned in to see the portion of the print the doctor was pointing to. "I don't..." He paused when he realized just what he might be looking at.

Dr. Briefs laughed at the wide-eyed expression on Vegeta's face as he looked up from the blueprint. "Ah, Son... You look just like a sixteen-year-old boy being handed the keys to a brand new sport scar," he teased.

"This is _so_ much better than a sport scar, Shatsu," Vegeta breathed. "You really can build a GR right into the facility?"

"Sure! In fact, if I do that, I can improve upon the structural integrity of the design and add additional reinforcements here, all around the perimeter walls," Dr. Briefs explained, handing Vegeta the large set of sheets and turning back the page to view another portion of the schematics. "Plus, you wouldn't need to go outside, you could use the room during even a severe storm, and repairs could be made much more easily. I'll be able to use materials I wanted to before but that wouldn't work with the current design, which will allow me to raise the maximum gravity level and make the room more shock proof in the event of an explosion. I can even put a better ventilation system in and updated restroom facilities. We'll leave a sleeping area in there too, if you want. But best of all, I'll be able to connect you to our databases so I can feed you music through an even better stereo system," he gushed. "If you think the one I showed you in Capsule Three was state-of-the-art, you haven't seen anything yet."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at the older man's enthusiasm. "I don't know what to say, Shatsu. Thank you." While an architect had doubtlessly drawn up plans for the addition, now he knew what Dr. Briefs had been spending so many hours on in his lab.

"You're so very welcome, Vegeta. I'm happy that you're pleased," Dr. Briefs said sincerely. "Besides, you and I both know that you've outgrown that GR you're using. You need something higher tech, and this should do nicely while I continue to incorporate your needs."

Vegeta nodded dumbly, touched by the thoughtfulness being shown to him. This only reinforced the Briefs' declarations that he was indeed welcome to stay here on a permanent basis. "Thank you," he repeated. "Does Bulma know about all of this?"

"She knows about the addition, of course, but I don't know how much she knows about the new GR. She's been so involved in this contract she's working on that she's had little time for anything else," the doctor mused. "But I'll be sure to run everything past her once the missus and I get back."

"Get back?" Vegeta echoed. "Are you taking a vacation?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Dr. Briefs asked. "I have still another conference to go to, and since it's on Sunny Island this year, Bunny is going along. Sunny Island has absolutely spectacular resorts. I couldn't swing it for you this time, but you'll have to come along next year."

"I suppose so," Vegeta responded. His head was swimming with everything that had just been presented to him. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight," Dr. Briefs told him. "Bunny'll make sure that a few day's meals are made up before we leave, with Anya feeling sick and all."

"All right. Is there anything you need help with before you go?" Vegeta asked.

Dr. Briefs considered this. "No, I think we're all set, my boy. We'll only be gone for a few days. But if you wouldn't mind, could you take a look at the whole set of blueprints? You always have valuable input, and if you notice anything, I'd like to incorporate it."

"Of course," Vegeta agreed. "I'd be happy to."

"Wonderful, thank you. Just make any notations in red ink so they're easily noticeable." Dr. Briefs smiled at him. "Well, I'd better go help Bunny finish packing." He placed a hand on Vegeta's arm in a fatherly gesture before walking away.

* * *

"Have you seen Bulma?" Anya asked as she sat down with the boys' breakfasts. "She didn't come down to breakfast today."

"I think she's in another meeting," Geta told her, sitting down with his own food. "I tried to get her to stay in today because she looks and sounds terrible, but she wouldn't do it. She's never going to shake that nasty sinus infection if she doesn't rest up."

"I hear you," Anya agreed. "But she's been working so hard on this contract, and I know she'd hate to see it fall through."

Vegeta put his plates in the sink and thought about what they were saying. They were right. She would only get worse if she didn't rest. "Geta, I need you to mind Vegeta for a couple hours, if you don't mind."

Geta swallowed. "Okay. Are you going to train a bit?" His father hadn't trained much lately, considering how busy his mother had been lately, so he didn't blame him for wanting a little time to himself.

"No, I need to take care of something," Vegeta said cryptically before leaving the kitchen.

Anya and Geta exchanged a look. "Don't ask me," Anya spoke up. "The last time he had something to take care of, he ended up on another planet."

Geta shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

* * *

Vegeta pulled the knot of the tie he'd selected tight around his throat and slid his suit coat on, glad that Mrs. Briefs had insisted upon having a couple of new suits tailored for him. He looked at his reflection and sighed, wondering if he really should be doing this. Bulma wouldn't be happy with him, but she was really sick. Besides, it seemed like her new power supply and this contract she was so desperately trying to sign were all she talked about all of the time, so he did know the basics about the project.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vegeta left his room and headed for the Capsule Corp offices. He'd do this for her, whether she put up a fuss or not. She needed him. He needed to be there for her when no one else could.

He opened the heavy door separating the executive offices from the rest of Capsule Corp and went inside, ignoring the hushed whispers of surprise at his appearance as he passed by. No one had ever seen him dressed in a suit; in fact, all that they had ever seen him wearing were jeans or bloodied up training shorts. He approached Bulma's assistant's desk. "Good morning, Nuiko."

Nuiko looked up from her work, her brows rising quite high when she saw him. "Good morning, Vegeta. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yes, it's been a while," Vegeta responded, nodding to Miwa, another young lady currently in the office.

Nuiko couldn't help but wonder what Vegeta was doing there dressed the way he was. "What's up? Can I help you with something?"

"I have a meeting to attend," Vegeta told her as casually as if he were announcing he was going to train. "I presume that it is being held in this conference room?" He gestured to a door on the far wall.

The two women exchanged an uneasy glance. He couldn't possibly mean what it seemed like he did. "Vegeta, that's Bulma's sales meeting," Nuiko told him.

Vegeta smiled. "Oh, good. Then I have the correct conference room. If you'll excuse me, ladies." He strode toward the closed door.

Nuiko leapt up from her seat in an attempt to intercept him. Didn't he know what an important business deal this was? "Vegeta, wait. Vegeta, please, you can't go in there-"

Vegeta ignored her pleas for him to wait and entered the conference room. "Bulma, you need to go home," he announced. "Thank you, Nuiko," he said, shutting the door on Bulma's objecting assistant.

Bulma's eyes widened. "Vegeta, what's going on? This is not the time to be reminding me that the GR is broken," she moaned, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. "Please don't do this."

Vegeta frowned at her. "The GR can wait, but _you_ are about to fall over," he said quietly. "I've never seen you so sick."

Bulma could feel the entire room's eyes on them. "Vegeta, I'm in the middle of a sales meeting!" she exclaimed weakly.

"Yes, and I doubt you're being very effective. Besides, if I were part of this meeting, I sure as hell wouldn't want you spreading your sinus infection to me," he pointed out, noting the uncomfortable shifting of the other participants of the meeting.

"But, Daddy's at a conference. Who's going to run this meeting if I leave?"

Vegeta opened the door. "Ms. Abe, this is a lunch meeting, is it not? It's close to noon. Please attend to these gentlemen's needs," he instructed. "Gentlemen, I will return in an hour to continue this meeting." He took Bulma's arm gently to stand her up.

"Vegeta, you can't-"

"Don't argue with me, Bulma," Vegeta said quietly, but his voice meant business. "You know you're in no condition to be here. You can hardly stand." He picked Bulma up as if she weighed nothing and addressed the men seated around the table. "Please excuse the interruption, gentlemen. Ms. Abe will see to providing you lunch." He cradled the ailing woman against his chest and carried her from the room.

The meeting attendees were silent for a moment. "Well. I can't say that's ever happened before," one commented.

* * *

Vegeta reappeared in the hallway and went into Bulma's bedroom. Turning down the blanket, sat her on the bed. He took off her shoes and was about to lay her down and cover her up when he looked at the fitted business suit she was wearing. _She won't be comfortable in these garments._ As gently as possible, he unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off, putting it over the back of a nearby chair. He inhaled; this was the part he didn't- but so very much _did_- want to do. "Stand up for a moment, Bulma," he directed softly, helping her up.

Bulma offered no resistance as he undid the button on her skirt and unzipped it, pulling it down her legs. He then hooked his fingers under the waist of her pantyhose, peeling them off. She noticed him momentarily biting his bottom lip as he did so. He sat her down on the bed and knelt before her. He reached forward to unbutton her blouse and paused, looking up at her.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Thank you, Vegeta."

"You're welcome," he murmured as he began to remove the blouse, trying to think of something, _anything_, other than what treasures were hidden beneath the silky fabric. "So, tell me where you were at with the presentation." He slipped the blouse down her arms. "I've heard you discussing this with your father, so I pretty much know what you want to say."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Vegeta looked up at her. "You know that I would do anything for you, Bulma."

"I know." She sighed. "I explained how the machine worked and how it would be beneficial to not only commercial use, but eventually private consumers as well. How clean and efficient it is, that sort of thing," Bulma murmured. "I was about to get into distribution, the contract, and costs when you came in."

"All right." Vegeta paused. She sat before him in only her bra and panties. He suppressed a gulp as he opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a nightshirt. "Can you finish by yourself, or would you like me to help you?"

"Help me." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

_Kami, help _me, he silently prayed as he leaned over and reached behind her to unhook her bra and slide it down her arms. Keeping his eyes fixed on the wall behind her, he slipped the shirt over her head. "Can you get your arms through?"

"I think so. Thanks, Veg. For everything," she whispered, sliding her arms though the armholes of the shirt.

_She must really be sick if she isn't putting up a fight about this._ "You're welcome. Now, try to get some sleep," he directed, tucking her under the covers and draping the rest of her clothes neatly across the chair. "I'll be back once the meeting is over with some soup for you. I'll get you some water before I go." He headed for the bathroom to get it.

"Okay." Exhausted, Bulma closed her eyes and was asleep almost immediately. When Vegeta came back, he set the water down on her nightstand. He was about to leave when he paused, then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

* * *

"Nuiko, is this the contract?"

"Yes, that's it," she responded with a nod. She gave Vegeta a look of appreciation. "I have to tell you that you certainly clean up wonderfully."

"Hmph." Vegeta did look quite handsome in his business attire but scowled as he perused the contract in his hand. "I look like an idiot in this stupid suit," he complained sourly. He sighed, deciding to swallow his pride for Bulma's sake. He couldn't screw this up. "Nuiko, would you mind, well, reading this to me?" he asked, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"Sure, no problem," she assured him, taking the papers. "It _is_ rather small print."

Vegeta turned a little redder. This was becoming quite a sore subject for him. "No, that's not the problem. I, uhm..."

"Oh," she said quietly, understanding hitting her. She pulled up a chair and indicated that he should sit down.

Vegeta was grateful that she was gracious enough to spare him any further embarrassment by saying nothing more and simply going over the document with him. He listened carefully as she read.

"That's it," Nuiko told him after she'd finished. "The two whose names are listed here will sign for Energy Technologies where the yellow flags are on these three pages. I can witness their signatures. Capsule Corp signs where the blue flags are." She eyed Vegeta contemplatively. "Have either Bulma or Dr. Briefs authorized you to sign in behalf of Capsule Corp?" she asked.

"No," Vegeta answered, surprised that she asked. He'd never been directly involved in Capsule Corp business before this. "No, neither of them has, but I think they authorized my son."

"That's all right. We can just take it to Bulma to sign later. It's not like she's going anywhere today." Nuiko laughed. "You're all set, Vegeta."

"Thank you," he told her quietly. "Will you be here if I need any revisions made?"

"Sure. I'll stay as late as you need," she assured him. "Kami knows I have more than enough to do." She smiled and handed the papers back to him. "It's been an hour. Perfect timing."

Vegeta nodded. "You should take lunch while I'm in there," he suggested. "And before you object, Bulma Junior, voice mail will catch any calls just fine."

Nuiko couldn't help but laugh. "All right, all right. I'll be back in an hour." She smiled again. "Knock 'em dead in there."

He smirked, knowing it was just a silly Earth euphemism she was using, but a good one nonetheless. "I fully intend to."

* * *

Vegeta opened the conference room door and went inside, shutting it behind him. The light conversation between the men seated around the table quieted as they watched him come in and stand at the head of the table. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he began, the training he'd received as a young boy in his father's court kicking in. "Thank you for your patience. I trust everyone has been served an adequate meal?"

There was a general consensus around the table and so Vegeta began his presentation. "Very good. I am Vegeta, and I will be offering the remainder of this presentation in behalf of Ms. Briefs." He laid the papers on the highly polished table. "Now, it is my understanding that Ms. Briefs has already explained the concept and benefits of this equipment to you, is this correct?"

"That is correct, Mr. Vegeta," one of the men responded. "We are definitely interested in your product and had been just about to discuss costs and the terms of the agreement when Ms. Briefs left ill."

Vegeta nodded. "Good. I am glad to hear it. However, I am not certain that I am completely comfortable with these terms and would like to request that we consider modifying them somewhat."

The businessmen eyed each other skeptically; what was this man doing? "Young man, I do not believe that you fully understand the gravity of this situation. We are a major energy production corporation and our choice of equipment is between Capsule Corp's design and another company's. We highly prefer the quality of the design of this one; in fact, it is quite ingenious," the man informed him.

Vegeta smiled and sat down at the table. "Not a surprise when you consider the designer."

"Agreed," the man continued. "So, please consider Ms. Briefs' hard work on these negotiations before being too quick to make any rash decisions."

"I thank you for your advice, Mr..."

"Mochizuki."

"Mr. Mochizuki, but I have very thoughtfully considered my proposal and I am sure that once you hear it, you will appreciate the extremity of its value to the community." Vegeta folded his hands.

* * *

Nuiko looked up as the conference room door opened, loud laughter coming from inside as the group of men exited. She almost gaped at what she saw.

Vegeta was right in the middle of the group, smiling from ear to ear and shaking hands with the different attendees of the meeting.

This was _Vegeta?_ Vegeta, Prince Grumpy Extraordinaire himself, who would break the machines that Bulma made for him and come complaining about it a couple times a week? She'd heard that since his return from space his behavior had improved drastically, but she hadn't seen him in a while and it was still a bit of a shock to her system how utterly _different_ he was acting.

"Well, Mr. Mochizuki, I must say it's been a pleasure doing business with you." Vegeta shook the older man's hand.

"Likewise. That's a good strong handshake you've got there, young man," Mr. Mochizuki commented.

"I make a point of it. A good handshake should not feel like a limp dead fish," Vegeta commented, earning himself another laugh from the other man. "Ms. Abe, Mr. Mochizuki has made some corrections to this document. Would you incorporate the changes and reprint the document, please?" He handed the marked up contract to her.

Nuiko's eyebrow rose; he had majorly changed the agreement. "Of course," she said smoothly. "Not a… problem…"

Vegeta almost laughed but held it in. Her expression as she stared at the contract was absolutely priceless. "Thank you, Nuiko. Mr. Mochizuki will sign before he leaves if you think you can have it ready shortly."

"Yes, it should only take a minute," she responded, still disbelieving what she was seeing. Had Vegeta actually negotiated _this?_ She wondered how Bulma would react.

"So, Mr. Vegeta. It seems that you know Ms. Briefs quite well," one of Mr. Mochizuki's associates commented.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

The man leaned in. "I must say that I'm extremely curious as to what your association with her is. You're not one of her regular partners, are you? I don't recall Ms. Briefs mentioning you during our conversations in regard to this project."

Caught off guard by the question, Vegeta's face momentarily took on its normal tabula rasa expression as the room fell silent, the only sounds being the clicking noises from Nuiko's keyboard as she typed. Everyone was waiting to hear his answer; evidently they had all been wondering the same thing. What could he say? He couldn't and _wouldn't_ lie, but would the nature of his relationship with Bulma affect the way they felt about this business transaction? It shouldn't, as Bulma's being a single mother hadn't prevented them from negotiations with Capsule Corp, but he knew how fickle people could be and couldn't help but feel a little anxious. He _could not_ ruin this business relationship for either Bulma or Capsule Corp. "No, I am not a partner of this project. I am her son's father," he answered in a neutral tone of voice, maintaining his composure.

"Ah." A slow smirk covered the man's face. "That makes a lot of sense, actually. You seemed quite, shall I say, protective of her."

_Perhaps this one is testing me._ Vegeta allowed a slow smile of his own. "Would you not be, if you were in my shoes?"

The man laughed. "Touché, Mr. Vegeta," he responded. "Well spoken."

Vegeta hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath until he began to breathe again. Normally a mere human wouldn't intimidate him in the least, but thoughts of Bulma, and _only_ Bulma, made him put as much effort into this as possible. "Thank you, Mr. Ohayashi."

Mr. Mochizuki nodded and made a small sound of approval; although it was common knowledge that Bulma was currently dating Hiroshi, this young man was evidently still devoted to her well being- made clear when he'd insisted that she go home earlier that day- and Capsule Corp's. That being the case, he had the distinct feeling that Vegeta hadn't done this for his own benefit, and found himself duly impressed. "I will sign your contract, Mr. Vegeta, as soon as it is ready."

"I have it, Mr. Mochizuki," Nuiko responded, picking it up from the printer.

Before she could give it to him, Vegeta spoke up. "Please review the changes with us one final time, Ms. Abe, so we can make certain that everything has been appropriately incorporated as required," he requested.

Good _call, Prince Vegeta, very good call,_ Nuiko thought with admiration at his cleverness. She realized that while Vegeta didn't necessarily expect Mr. Mochizuki to try to pull a fast one on him, since Vegeta couldn't read everything that was printed, he'd have even more difficulty with handwriting. Additionally, since Mr. Mochizuki had wanted to record the changes himself, by using the phrase 'appropriately incorporated,' Vegeta was indirectly passing doubt of anything being incorrect onto her instead of Mr. Mochizuki. Therefore, going over the document verbally instead of checking it over himself before handing it over to be signed would avoid that same uncomfortable feeling as one got when counting the money someone just gave them while the payer was still present, thus signifying trust in Mr. Mochizuki and implying evidence of his honesty.

"Certainly, Mr. Vegeta," she responded cheerfully, and began to read.

* * *

"Hey, did you miss me?" Vegeta murmured softly as he lifted his crying son from his crib. "Daddy wasn't home to play with you tonight- phew, boy. You're _stinky_." He laid the now happy baby on his changing table and began changing his soiled diaper.

"Da-ee!" VJ kicked his fat little legs and decided to chew on one fist, burbling contentedly to himself. Vegeta sighed when his son began to squirm and tried to roll over onto his tummy.

"Vegeta, you're not making this very easy on me, you know," he informed the carefree child, gently laying his son back down on his back. "You would much rather run around butt naked, wouldn't you?"

The baby pulled his fist from his mouth and gave his father a huge grin as Vegeta snapped the legs of the boy's pajamas back shut.

"Of course you would. But then you'd be leaving turds all over the entire house, smelly boy." Vegeta used a wipe on his hands and picked the giggling boy up. "Let's go see if Mama is feeling any better."

"Mama!" VJ exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"Mmm-hmm. We'll see if she's awake." Bulma's door was partway open and he could hear voices. "It sounds like it, doesn't it?" Vegeta asked his son, rapping against the door frame lightly. "Bulma?"

"Come in," Bulma said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He entered the room, only to see Hiroshi already there. "Hey, Bulma. Good evening, Hiroshi," he forced himself to acknowledge the man politely. It would only upset Bulma if he didn't.

"Hmph." Hiroshi didn't even bother to look his direction. Not that Vegeta actually _cared_.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma objected in a tired voice. "You look nice, Vegeta. How did it go?"

"You shouldn't be talking," Vegeta objected. "You sound terrible."

"I _feel_ terrible," she confirmed miserably. "I have these," she said, indicating a couple prescription bottles on her night stand, "but it'll probably be a couple days before I start to feel better."

Vegeta set their son down on a big overstuffed pillow on the bed and gave him a toy to play with that had been on Bulma's nightstand. He leaned over her and felt her forehead. "You're burning up, Woman," he murmured. "Let me see your hands."

"Okay..." Bulma didn't know why Vegeta wanted to see her hands, but complied anyway and held them out to him.

He took them and looked into her eyes. Momentarily she felt a sensation come over her that she'd only felt from him; she knew immediately what it was- his ki.

"Are you giving me-"

"Shhh. Yes," Vegeta hushed her. "Relax and take it in."

"What strange alien thing are you doing to her?" Hiroshi demanded, stepping closer.

"I'm not harming her," Vegeta retorted. "I'm offended that you would even suggest such a thing. I'm simply giving her a little of my ki." He released Bulma's hands. "Do you feel any better?"

Bulma nodded happily. "I feel like I ate part of a senzu bean," she told him, her voice still raspy from her runny nose.

"Good." Vegeta crossed his arms and eyed her as a father would his mischievous child. "I only gave you a little. I cannot fully heal you, so you still need to finish those pills from your physician and be careful not to overdo it," he counseled.

"Yes, Doctor. Hey, you could start your own practice and make a boatload of money," Bulma joked, picking up her water glass.

"Hmm. Nah. I have something even better for you," Vegeta assured her, pulling his jacket open and removing an envelope from its inner pocket.

Bulma hurriedly put the glass down. "The contract! Did Mr. Mochizuki sign it?" she asked eagerly.

"Indeed," Vegeta told her, handing her the envelope. "I've brought it home for you to sign as well. But before you do, I have to tell you that I asked for a few changes."

Bulma had been in the process of pulling the copies of the contract from the envelope when she stopped and looked up at him. "Changes? Vegeta, what... Do you have even the _foggiest_ idea how long and hard I worked on this?" she exclaimed.

"I do," Vegeta acknowledged crisply. "_I_ gave up the majority of my training time to watch our son all day, every day, for weeks while you were busy in meetings. Have you so little trust in me that you think I would deliberately ruin this deal for you?"

"Vegeta, you didn't even discuss this with me! How could you do this?"

"Uh oh, bad boy!" Hiroshi piped up in amusement. "Babe, I guess the stupid monkey wasn't trained well enough after all," he said, sneering at Vegeta.

Vegeta gave him a cold look that clearly told him that Hiroshi would get his.

"Hiroshi, that's not..." Bulma blinked, frowned, and looked at the papers in her hands again, up at Vegeta, then back down to the papers. Her eyes filled with tears. "If he's stupid, how I wish I were an imbecile. Vegeta, do you have any idea just what it is you've done for Capsule Corp?" she whispered, looking back up at him. She bit her bottom lip and blinked rapidly, but the tears fell anyway. "Please accept my apology for _ever_ having doubted you." She covered her mouth with her hand. "_Ten_ years of exclusive energy production products through Capsule Corp, with an optional five-year extension which he already signed, in case you didn't notice," she managed.

"He did?" Vegeta asked, astounded that the man would do something like that. "There are three original documents in the envelope. Perhaps it was a mistake," he mused, peering down over her shoulder.

Bulma wiped at her face with the back of her hand and shook her head. "No, they're all signed. Vegeta, I was fighting to get _three_ years. How did you ever manage _fifteen_?" Her sniffles faded away into a giggle. "Kami, Vegeta! I could just kiss you!" She paused, and reached up to grab his tie, pulling him down face to face with her. Vegeta felt himself drowning in her shining blue eyes when she spoke again. "In fact, I think I will. Oh, and Hiroshi? This is also for the slur earlier."

Hiroshi frowned at her behavior. "What?" He cursed mentally as she drew Vegeta close, knowing that he was losing the battle against this hated Saiyan prince and was at a loss as to what he could do about it, other than to find a way to dispose of the man.

:Bulma...: Vegeta's mind gasped as she raised her lips to his and kissed him. :I...:

:Enjoy it, Vegeta. You deserve it,: hers whispered back. :I fully intend to.: Bulma let go of his tie and pulled down on his shoulders to seat him on the bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around him and slid one hand up his back to tangle her fingers in his hair at the base of his neck.

Vegeta just managed to hold back a low moan when she deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue against his. Without conscious thought, he pulled her onto his lap and held her close as he returned the kiss, running a hand along her back.

Regretfully, Vegeta ended the kiss before he got too carried away, and quickly let her go. "I'll bring you some soup as I promised," he managed, trying to forget the brief flash of disappointment he'd seen on her face when he'd broken their kiss. "I'll take the documents back to your office tomorrow after you've signed them."

"Da-ee?" VJ said with an inquisitive tone to his voice. The perceptive little boy could sense the abrupt changes in the moods of his parents.

"All right," Bulma agreed quietly, watching him scoop up their son and leave the room. It occurred to her that Vegeta seemed unwilling to leave the boy in the same room as her boyfriend.

"Well, I do hope you enjoyed yourself," Hiroshi snapped sarcastically, interrupting her thoughts.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Bulma retorted. "You brought it upon yourself, Hiroshi. What have you got to say about that?"

He gave her a dirty look. "Fine, whatever. I'm leaving," he growled.

"Fine."

He left the room when she said nothing more and sighed wearily, leaning back against the pillows. _I am so confused! Why doesn't Hiroshi make me feel that way? _No one_ else has, only Vegeta. But I can't just dump Hiroshi and take Vegeta back simply because he makes me feel good. Kami, how many times must I keep going over and over this in my head?_ She ran her hand through her hair in frustration, knowing deep inside that she was ignoring the true reason she had even had the thought of taking Vegeta back into her life.

* * *

"There. That's much better, don't you think?" Vegeta asked his wide-eyed son as he pulled on a t-shirt and pair of shorts. "No more uncomfortable suit for Daddy." He picked up the baby and headed for the kitchen.

Vegeta experienced the inevitable rush of emotion that this child frequently seemed able to evoke in him when his son let out a sigh, then rested his little head against his father's shoulder. He stopped in the middle of the hallway to look down at his cherished son and reached up with his free hand to place it ever so gently over the baby's back. A smile played at his lips; the boy had stuck his thumb in his mouth and his tiny eyelids were drooping as he fought a losing battle against the sleepiness overcoming him.

Vegeta chuckled softly and turned his head a little further to place a feather soft kiss on his son's hair. He was about to start back down the hallway when he got the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. Turning his head, he realized that not only had Hiroshi left, but he hadn't closed Bulma's door behind him. His eyes widened briefly and he blushed, embarrassed at being caught, when he saw her blue eyes fixed intently on him; she was smiling and had obviously seen the entire display of affection between father and son.

"Here, take him while I get your soup," Vegeta murmured, entering her room and placing their son in her arms, taking care not to disturb the sleepy infant. "Do you want anything else with it?"

"You don't have to get me anything, Vegeta," Bulma told him, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm feeling a lot better now, thanks to you."

Vegeta placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. "No, I want you to stay in bed and rest," he insisted. "Just... just let me do this for you for once. Besides, you're caring for Vegeta," he finished hurriedly, feeling the blush returning to his face.

Bulma smiled at him, making his stomach tie into knots. "I guess I wouldn't mind a sandwich if we have any deli meat," she told him.

"No problem. I'll find something if we don't," Vegeta promised, turning to leave. He stopped when he heard her voice.

"Thanks, Vegeta. For everything," she whispered. "You've been so sweet today."

He nodded and left the room. She watched him go and settled back down beneath the covers with her baby, who yawned but snuggled back down against her. She touched the spot she'd seen Vegeta kiss their son gently. "Very sweet."

* * *

Vegeta picked up the dinner tray he'd prepared and carried it up the stairs. He'd made her chicken noodle soup, a turkey sandwich- which he knew was her favorite- and a pot of herbal tea. He'd also added an orange, from which he had carefully peeled every single bit of the bitter pith as he could, having watched her doing the very same thing before consuming an orange.

Bulma sat up a little straighter against the headboard when he came back in. "Wow, that looks great. Thanks, Vegeta."

"You're welcome," he responded, placing the tray on her lap and setting the teapot in his other hand on the nightstand. "Here, I'll take him so you can eat."

Bulma laid their sleeping son down on the blanket beside her. "It's all right. I haven't seen the little guy all day. Aren't you going to eat anything?" she inquired.

"I have something in the kitchen," he told her.

"Why didn't you bring it with you, silly?" Bulma asked, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "You could have eaten up here with me, you know."

"You should get some rest," Vegeta lied. "I didn't want to keep you up."

"Vegeta, I slept all afternoon, again, thanks to you," she informed him, seeing through his excuse. "Besides, I've been in meetings all day for weeks. I wouldn't mind a little pleasant company for a change."

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and let out a small sigh. Bulma just rolled her eyes.

"Vegeta, unless you find being in my presence contemptible, which didn't appear to be the case just ten minutes ago, I truly would like to eat the sandwich you so graciously prepared for me with you," she informed him.

Vegeta's face softened somewhat. "Of _course_ I don't find you contemptible. I'll be right back." He left the room, reappearing momentarily with a tray loaded with his own food. He looked around, but the only chair he could see was the one he'd draped her clothes over.

Bulma patted the bed next to her on her side opposite of their son. "Sit here," she directed. "Why didn't you use instant transmission to bring up my food?" She took a bite of her sandwich.

"Because I need a free hand to do it, which I didn't have since I was holding the teapot," Vegeta explained as he sat down next to her. "That's one of the things that sucks about instant transmission. It's not a completely mental process."

"Oh, right. I guess I hadn't thought about that. This sandwich is really good, by the way," she commented, taking another bite. "Just the way I like it."

Vegeta nodded. "Rye or wheat bread, but if it's wheat it _has_ to be lightly toasted, with thinly sliced turkey breast, just a leaf or two of romaine, heavy on the Roma tomatoes and a little bit of Dijon mustard. Hold the mayo because you're a Miracle Whip person, which we don't have. Oh, and the soup should be the kind from the can that has the wide, curly noodles, not the one from the box with the little straight ones, and the tea needs to be either herbal with lemon and sugar or oolong." He took a bite of his own sandwich and eyed her as he chewed.

She sat gaping at him, her sandwich temporarily forgotten. "You _knew_ all of that?" she asked in astonishment.

Vegeta nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not? It's not just your mother who makes lunch anymore. I do it sometimes, if I'm feeding the boys anyway." He paused for a moment. "Speaking of offspring feeding, I was going to bring some sour cream 'n' onion chips up for you but you know _who_ ate the entire bag, and all of the Doritos, too. What a_ pig_," he grumbled grumpily. He took another bite of his sandwich.

Bulma's astonishment turned into amusement and she laughed. "You're hilarious, you know that?"

Vegeta smiled at her. "I enjoy hearing you laugh," he told her sincerely. The intense look in his eyes made a lump form in her throat; he was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. "It feels good to make you laugh instead of..." He trailed off, looking away, and let out a long sigh. "Bulma, I-"

"Didn't tell me how the meeting went," Bulma interrupted in an attempt to change the mood. She laid her hand on his arm gently.

Vegeta wished more than anything that he could just sweep this woman up into his arms and show her how much he cherished her right then and there. "Fine, I guess," he told her. "I assume that you read the contract while I was making our food?" He polished off his first sandwich and picked up a second one.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Well, just the part you changed. How in Kami's name did you ever get them to agree to something like that? You're not exactly, well..."

"The most charismatic person you know?" Vegeta finished for her. "You can say it. I'm certainly not offended."

Bulma blushed slightly. "Well, I was going to say socially inclined, but yeah, I guess so. Besides, you don't strike me as a salesperson type."

"No, I detest pesky salespeople." Vegeta wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Pushy vultures. I _am_, however, a tough negotiator. One of the things I was trained for from an early age was how to deal with and even manipulate others so I would be well prepared to be king when my father died," he told her. "I guess I haven't forgotten everything."

"No, I can't say you could have," she agreed. "What did you say?"

"I played up on the benefit of this partnership on the part of the community," he explained. "Didn't you see the part about the percentage donations? It's a bit of a gamble to start off with, since the first couple years are generating large quantity orders at the highest percentage, but it looks very good for Capsule Corp in the public arena. But I knew you knew that, since you didn't bite my head off over it." Vegeta grinned and winked at her.

"Percentage donations?" Bulma blinked absently at him. "You mean there were more changes than just the term of the contract?"

Vegeta pursed his lips. "Great." He ate a few spoonfuls of his soup.

"Percentage donations, Vegeta?" Bulma repeated. "Where was that in the contract?"

"I told them that every year a certain percentage of the gross sales would be donated to a charity of their choosing, as long as it met certain criteria," he told her. "I know it's a lot of money, but..."

"What kind of figures are we talking, Vegeta?"

"Uhm, 7.5% the first three years, 5% the next three, and 2.5% the last four." Vegeta gave her a don't-kill-me look.

"That _is_ a lot of money," Bulma agreed. "But it's a great tax write-off and it'll get badly needed money back to the community, which is what, in part, this invention was intended to do in the first place." She giggled. "You look just like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and is relieved that he won't get a spanking after all," she teased.

"Hmph." Vegeta mock scowled when she continued to giggle and poked him in the side, but his scowl quickly dissipated into a smirk. "That's a pity."

Bulma giggled again. She had no doubt that he was serious and would even enjoy it if she doled out such a punishment to him. "I'm very pleased and _proud _of you, Veggie," she told him softly. "I could learn a lot from you."

He looked over at her. Her eyes were shining and she was smiling at him fondly. "I think you know a lot more than you give yourself credit for."

"Exactly. Same goes for you." She squeezed his bicep. "You'll see Capsule Corp's gratitude when you get your first commission check."

"Commission check?" he echoed.

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "Yes, you know, payment for a job well done? I'll make sure Daddy gives you a sweet little bonus." She grinned. "You don't think I earned my fortune by being beautiful, do you?" she teased playfully.

"You _could_ have," Vegeta responded, pleased when she blushed. "But I don't need any money. You and your parents have already given me all I need and more. Besides, it was your contract, not mine."

Bulma looked at him in surprise. "But, Vegeta, you _earned_ this. If you hadn't stepped in, we would have signed a comparatively very weak deal and would have made nowhere near the progress as we undoubtedly will now. You deserve to be appropriately compensated for your efforts." She shook her head. "I just couldn't have that on my conscience. If you don't want a commission check, what _do_ you want?"

His coal black eyes burned into her blue ones with such heated passion that she couldn't help but blush furiously; any fool watching them would have had no doubt whatsoever as to what it was he desired. "I did this all for you, Bulma," he told her in a low, husky voice. "Not for your father, or for Capsule Corp, or even for the community. Only you."

Bulma felt herself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "I... Vegeta..." Their lips were just a couple of inches apart.

"If you are that insistent about this commission, then I would like to receive it in the form of stock," Vegeta continued in the same deep voice. "Is that a possibility?"

"I- I'm not sure. I mean, yes, it's possible, but I don't know about you," she stammered, her pulse racing. Vegeta was so close, and his lips had felt _so_ good on hers.

"What do you mean, you're not sure about me?" Vegeta asked.

"We're privately owned, so Capsule Corp stock isn't available to the public. You have to be an employee for at least six months in order to receive commission in the form of stock." Bulma averted her eyes and sat back, then drew in a deep breath. "I'll give you employee status so we can pay you a commission, that's no problem. I'll have to ask the board about waiving the six month waiting period, though, since Daddy isn't here to give his approval to do it."

Vegeta regretted the sudden loss of closeness to the blue-haired woman but managed to hold in his disappointment. It was better this way, anyway; if they had stayed that close for much longer, he undoubtedly would have kissed her again, and he already had a strong desire to guide her down onto the mattress and remove their clothing... "I see," he managed. "That's not a problem. If it can't be done, I want _you_ to take the commission as stock and divide it between our son and grandson."

Bulma's face softened. "Vegeta, what a wonderful gesture," she told him softly.

He shrugged. "I've got to be good for something, right?"

"Don't say that," Bulma chastised gently. "Deny it all you want, but you're a good man, Vegeta. You have no idea how drastically and completely you've changed my life, do you? You've given me the greatest gift I could ever possibly want." She rested her hand on their son's sleeping form. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning over to kiss him gently.

It was a quick, chaste little kiss, but Vegeta couldn't help but be affected by it nonetheless. "Any time."

Bulma smiled, a tiny blush spreading across her cheeks. Again she didn't doubt that he was serious. "Could you grab that binder for me, please?" She pointed to a large black binder on her dresser.

"Sure," Vegeta agreed, getting up for a moment to grab it. He handed it to her and sat back down.

"Thanks. I keep all sorts of useful stuff in here. You never know what you'll need at any given time," Bulma explained, opening it up and leafing through its contents. "Ah, here we go." She pulled a document several pages long out of a plastic sleeve and handed it to him. "This is an employment agreement. I'm sure there's nothing you wouldn't be okay with, but just read it over, then fill out the last page and sign it so I can get the ball rolling for you."

He hesitated, then took it from her and looked down at it. His stomach twisted; as he had suspected, the document was composed entirely in the multitude of symbols that this planet used to scribe the Western Standard language. He could probably have made some of it out had it been written in Eastern characters, as he _could_ read several other Earth languages, but this? It would be like asking her to read Saiyan. He set the document down and sighed quietly.

Bulma frowned. "Vegeta, what's wrong?"

"I- I can't."

"Can't what? It's just standard mumbo-jumbo for legal purposes. No big deal," Bulma assured him.

He turned away slightly, feeling his face grow hot. This was what he hadn't wanted her of all people to find out. He should have known that she would sooner than later. "I don't mind signing this," he assured her. "I mean I can't read Western, Bulma," he confessed in a small voice. "Maybe some of it if it were written with Eastern letters instead of these symbols, but..."

Bulma felt her heart ache as he spoke. Even the back of his neck and his ears had gone red. Vegeta was obviously humiliated by his confession; he spoke numerous languages fluently and would consider an inability such as not being able to _read_ those same languages to be a weakness, especially if certain people found out. _She_ was probably near the top of the list, if not right at it. "Vegeta, I- I'm sorry," she stammered. "You speak Western so fluently that I never would have guessed otherwise." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I never meant to embarrass you."

"I know," came his tired response. "You couldn't have known."

"Vegeta, look at me," she requested. He shifted uncomfortably but didn't turn around. "Vegeta, please. I don't want to talk to the back of your head."

He realized the underlying meaning of her statement- he'd haughtily turned his back to her many times in the past when she'd tried to talk to him and he hadn't wanted to listen, and it had hurt her. He turned around to face her. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to ignore you."

"It's all right, Vegeta," Bulma said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Tell you what. I'll teach you, if you'll teach me Saiyan."

He looked at her with surprise. "You... you want to learn Saiyan?"

She nodded. "Of course I do. Don't you remember how I agreed that it was important that our son learn it and that I didn't want to be left behind? Eventually I'd like to learn Gerdian, too." She squeezed his hand again, closing her free hand around it as well. "So, do we have a deal?" she asked softly.

He graced her with the tiniest beginnings of a smile. "Sure." He returned the squeeze gently. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Bulma." He reached up to cup her cheek with his free hand, stroking it with his thumb.

She found herself drowning in his dark eyes as their faces slowly drew closer together. Their eyes drooped closed, their lips touched, and he kissed her softly, enveloping her in his arms, holding her close. She returned the kiss, sliding her arms around him.

The kiss had grown a little more intense when the phone rang, interrupting them. Bulma pulled away reluctantly. "It's Daddy. I- I should probably answer that," she whispered, her cheeks flushing pink. "Hi, Daddy! Good..."

Vegeta gave her a little smile. It was just as well that it happened; his desire to make love to her had only gotten stronger when her arms had wrapped around him. He got up and waved a quick goodbye to her and bent down to scoop up their son.

"Hold on a second, Daddy." Bulma took the phone away from her ear and covered it with her hand. "Don't go yet," she told him. "I want to get his okay for your commission." She raised the phone again. "Daddy, Vegeta's in here. I have something to ask you for him, so I'm going to put you on the speaker phone, okay?" She pressed a button and set the phone back into its cradle. "Can you hear me, Daddy?"

"Loud and clear, Pumpkin. Hey there, Vegeta."

"I hope you're having a pleasant trip, Shatsu," Vegeta responded, cradling the baby in the crook of one arm.

"Indeed we are! Thank you for asking. It's just beautiful here. Too bad it's for a conference, eh?" Dr. Briefs responded jovially. "So, what did you have to ask me, Bulma?"

"As you can probably tell from listening to me, I caught a nasty sinus infection right before I was supposed to go to the meeting to sign the contract with Energy Technologies," she told him. "Typical, huh?" She paused as her father chuckled dryly in agreement. "Anyway, Vegeta made me go home."

"Go home?" Dr. Briefs echoed. "Vegeta, Bulma's health is important to me as well, but I hope you realize just how hard she has been working on this project."

"Daddy, it's okay," Bulma reassured him. "He knows about the equipment and went in my place."

Dr. Briefs was silent for a moment. "Really?" He sounded surprised.

"Bulma was ill, and I was taught how to negotiate in my father's court. It's no big deal." Vegeta felt a little odd speaking into the air, but just shrugged it off. "They signed it, anyway."

Bulma gave him an amused look. No big deal. Wouldn't she love to come up with a few more no big deals! "Yeah, he did a great job. Anyway, I told him we'd give him employee status so we could pay him a commission, but he doesn't want the money."

"I'd like _stock_, instead." Vegeta's statement obviously was not meant to ask if that was an option. "But Bulma says that there is a waiting period before that can happen."

"You want stock instead?" Dr. Briefs found himself surprised a second time, not only by Vegeta's request but by the fact that his daughter wanted to give him a commission when he simply got the contract she'd worked up signed for her. "Well, Bulma is correct when she told you new employees don't typically qualify, but considering the employee, I'll talk to the board about waiving that requirement." He chuckled. "Huh. I never expected that you'd want Capsule stock, Vegeta, but I have to admit that I _was_ quite impressed by your portfolio when you showed it to me. Even though it's relatively small right now, it should pan out nicely for you eventually. Maybe you should be a financial advisor."

"Uhm, thanks," Vegeta mumbled, giving Bulma a sheepish little smile when she turned to gape at him. He'd bought some stock on a whim and decided that he'd enjoy the challenge of determining the right ones to buy at the right time and in the right quantities. While he certainly hadn't had them long, they'd actually already gained a little, fueling his drive to continue watching the market. He had not, however, told Bulma of any of this.

"Portfolio?" Bulma repeated. "As in stocks and bonds?"

"And a few nice mutual funds... Wait a minute. Did I let out a cat I didn't know was still in the bag?" Dr. Briefs asked hesitantly.

"Just a little kitty, Shatsu. No lions," Vegeta told him. "No problem."

"All right then. Grab a pen and I'll give you the fax number here. Send me over the forms and I'll sign them and a waiver notice," Dr. Briefs instructed.

"Okay, go ahead," Bulma told him, grabbing a piece of paper from her binder and jotting down the number. "Okay, I'll fax it over now. Thanks Daddy. Give Mom a kiss for me."

"Will do, Pumpkin. Bye, Vegeta. Thanks for your help today."

"You're welcome," Vegeta responded.

The connection ended and Bulma reached over to turn off the phone. "You invested in stock?"

Vegeta shrugged casually. "Yeah, a little here, a little there. I think your father was just surprised that I would bother."

"_I'm_ surprised that you would bother," Bulma exclaimed. She couldn't help but wonder where he even got the funds to do it. As far as she was aware, he'd only done a small job or two for Dr. Ueda. It wasn't as though that kind of thing would bring in a significant enough amount of money to build a decent stock portfolio. "How much did you invest?"

"Oh, two or three bajillion zeni. You know, pocket change. How much are _you_ worth, Bulma?" Vegeta countered.

Bulma blushed slightly. "You're right, Veg. I'm sorry I was nosy."

"It's okay," he assured her. "Besides, I suppose most people's first thought would be 'where does a guy with no income get money for stocks, anyway?', don't you think?" He grinned when her blush returned. "Hey, don't worry about it. Being nosy is only human nature, right?"

Bulma scowled and made a disgruntled noise. "You snot." She smacked him on the arm he was not using to hold their son.

"Oh? I'm not the one with a drippy nose," Vegeta said, laughing when she made the noise again. "You're beautiful when you're angry," he informed her.

She couldn't help but blush still again. "Liar. I look terrible and you know it."

"I've never seen you look terrible. Not even in the morning when you'd have bed head and no makeup on. My first thought was always to grab you and..." Vegeta trailed off, averting his eyes. He sighed. "I suppose we should send the papers your father asked for."

"I suppose," Bulma agreed quietly. She would never forget the look in his eyes on the days he didn't get up early to train. She'd wake up to find him lying on his side watching her, a hungry look on his face as his eyes roved over her body, only to be quickly replaced by his hands and his mouth... She felt herself growing flushed and quickly tried to shake the memory from her mind. "There's a fax machine in my lab. We can do it there." She blushed. "Uhm, fax the stuff..."

"I know what you meant," Vegeta responded softly. He held out his hand. "I'll teleport you there."

"Thanks." She took his hand and was suddenly in the main lab. "I'll never cease to be amazed by that."

Vegeta nodded. "It's an amazing technique," he agreed, letting go of her hand.

She walked over to the fax and stuck the papers her father had requested into the feed tray. "You know, I think I'll send him the contract, too. That should brighten his day." She winked and dialed the number.

Vegeta watched as the papers were drawn through the machine one by one. "He will receive them where he is now?"

Bulma nodded. "It uses a phone line to send the signals just as if we were speaking over the phone." She stepped back. "I guess all we do is wait for him to sign them and send them back."

"Okay." Vegeta looked down at the baby slumbering in his arms, not knowing what else to say.

The room was quiet for a moment except for the sound of the transmission. "Vegeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you watch a movie with me?"

"I suppose. Does it have to be, how did you put it, a 'chick flick?' "

Bulma laughed. The expression sounded so funny coming from his mouth. "No, I promise it won't be a chick flick. In fact, I'll even let you choose. How about that?"

"Okay. Shall we?" He held out his hand.

She took it. "Let's."

* * *

"Want some?"

Bulma looked up from her son to Vegeta, who was holding an enormous bowl of popcorn. "Sure, thanks. Why don't you just pull the coffee table a little closer and put it there? Then we could both reach it."

"That'll work- oh. Sorry." Vegeta turned his head, having gotten an eyeful of her nursing the baby.

Bulma shrugged. "For what? It's not like you've never seen me nurse him before." _Not to mention the number of times he's seen me naked..._

"I know, but, well..." Vegeta sighed and sat down on the couch with her, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Things are different now," he mumbled, pointing the remote at the television.

Bulma detected the regret he was unable to keep out of his voice. "Vegeta, I... I'm sorry."

Many of the movie titles were also listed in Eastern Standard and he noticed one he had been wanting to see. "How about this one?" Vegeta selected a movie on demand on the screen.

"That's fine," she agreed, adjusting her shirt and raising their son to rest on her shoulder. She patted the little back gently.

"All right." Vegeta ordered the movie and put the remote down. "Bulma?"

"Yeah?"

"Me, too."

"I know."

Just as the opening scene started, the phone rang. "I'll bet that's Daddy," Bulma exclaimed, grabbing it from the coffee table. "Hi, Dad-"

Vegeta could hear the normally soft spoken doctor's voice coming excitedly from the receiver from where he sat and couldn't help but crack a grin at the contorted expression on Bulma's face as she pulled it away from her ear slightly.

"Daddy, I- wait a minute- Daddy?" She propped the phone against her other shoulder and held VJ out to Vegeta. "Can you take him?" she asked silently before going back to her conversation.

Vegeta leaned over to take his son, who had begun to whimper and wriggle in Bulma's grasp. "Of course," he whispered, resting back down with his knees up and his head against the cushioned arm of the couch. "Come and see Daddy for a while," he murmured softly to the boy, situating him against his shoulder and patting his back.

"Da-ee," VJ cooed, taking a fistful of his father's hair in one hand and sticking the other thumb in his mouth. Vegeta felt himself melt at the sound of the little voice and the feeling of the small, warm body snuggling up against him. He smiled, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"Yes, he's right here. No, that's just a movie we were watching. Sorry, I know it's kind of loud. I'll turn it down." Bulma picked up the remote control and lowered the volume. "No, I have no idea. You know I negotiated with them for weeks!" She looked over to Vegeta. "Daddy says spectacular job, Vegeta, and wants to know just _what_ it was that you did to get this contract."

"I asked for it," Vegeta responded cryptically.

Bulma sat gaping at him. "What...?"

"I _asked_ for it," Vegeta repeated. "I told Mr. Mochizuki that while you had done an excellent job on the creation of the product, the terms you'd negotiated were clearly insufficient, given the intended purpose of the invention. Some more comprehensive stipulations were necessary if all entities involved were to benefit. So, they asked me what I had in mind, and I told them. And our son just threw up on me." Vegeta raised the baby up to look at him. "You just made a mess on Daddy," he told the child accusingly.

VJ laughed happily, squirming in his father's hands.

"Well, I'm glad _somebody's_ happy about it," he teased the infant. "Now, are you going to keep the rest down or puke that up too?"

"Da-ee!"

Vegeta sighed, but couldn't keep from smiling. The boy was so happy all of the time.

* * *

Bulma laid her son in his crib and pulled the blanket over him. She leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead and crept out of the nursery.

"All set," she announced as she sat back down on the couch opposite Vegeta.

Vegeta grunted in the affirmative, his mouth full of popcorn. "He was running around the whole house in that contraption your mother bought him and causing trouble all day. I'm not surprised that he's tired."

Bulma giggled. "He really likes the walker," she agreed. "I don't think they're very safe, though. I probably won't keep it long."

Vegeta nodded. "He's already pulling himself around using the furniture. He'll be walking on his own before you know it."

Bulma smiled. "I'm sure he will. He's growing up so fast. He's hardly a baby anymore," she said soberly. She'd had to sacrifice a lot of time normally spent with her son because of all of the meetings she'd had to attend, and it bothered her tremendously.

A slow smile spread over Vegeta's face. "Well... we could always make another one," he commented casually.

Bulma nearly choked on her popcorn. "Vegeta! I..." She blushed furiously. "You know I'm with Hiroshi. Why would you suggest such a thing?" she sputtered.

"Because I meant it," he told her seriously, "and because your boyfriend has made it clear that he detests children. I wouldn't expect anything from him in that respect."

Bulma pursed her lips. "I'm not comfortable discussing my relationship with Hiroshi with you," she retorted, ignoring the fact that he was right. "I really don't think it's any of anyone's business."

Vegeta reached for the remote and shut off the television. "Excuse me, Bulma, but I am forced to disagree with you. Your relationship with that man is poor at best and his behavior is intolerable. You can't honestly tell me that you haven't noticed how degrading he is to your family and friends, even if you conveniently choose to forget about how he treats you like less than garbage."

Bulma's face turned red. He was just jealous, just trying to get her to break up with Hiroshi so he could get back together with her. "How dare you, Vegeta?" she shouted, grateful that no one else was around to hear them. "You weren't exactly Prince Charming to me yourself, you know. You hurt me more deeply than I ever thought anyone could, and I spent a lot of sleepless nights crying over you while you did your own thing in space."

"We have gone through this already, Bulma," Vegeta told her tersely. "I have told you that I was wrong to treat you the way I did, and that I regret that more than anything I have ever done in my life. I have tried to be a better man, to be the kind of man I should have been to you, but you are so blinded by your boyfriend's pretty words that you cannot see that-"

"Hiroshi actually cares about how I feel and what I think," Bulma interrupted angrily. "He enjoys doing things with me that make me happy. It was like pulling hen's teeth to get you to go anywhere or do anything with me, so quit acting so self-righteous and trying to put Hiroshi down!" In the back of her mind she knew he was right, but didn't like feeling cornered the way she did, especially by Vegeta.

Vegeta got up from the couch. "I refuse to listen to this any longer," he rasped out between gritted teeth. "I do care, Bulma, and I cannot understand how you can consciously ignore everything he does. Since my opinion obviously means less than nothing to you, it is pointless to continue this conversation." He headed for the door.

"Oh, that's just fine," Bulma snapped. "Go on, leave. Walk out on me again, like you always have. So what else is new?"

He turned to look at her, red and visibly shaking with contained anger, before continuing on out of the room. If he said anything else it would only make the problem worse.

Bulma picked up the remote and threw it the direction he'd gone, then dropped her face into her hands and started to cry in hurt and frustration. Why did it always have to come to this with Vegeta? How could he claim to be trying to be a better person when he kept on doing and saying such hurtful things? She grabbed a tissue and wiped at her face. He'd been so sweet, so amazing earlier. Now he was just being an absolute jerk.

* * *

Vegeta staggered over to his bed as the room tilted again and flopped down heavily onto it. The empty whiskey bottle slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor, but he paid it no heed. Everything he'd done that day had been for her and only her, but his efforts didn't matter to her. Add to that the fact that once again, his attempts to show her how he really felt and that he truly meant it had backfired on him. It was hardly worth the effort just to be continuously shot down in favor of her disgraceful boyfriend. There was a part of him that wished he hadn't said anything about Hiroshi, but the rest of him knew it had to be said.

He sighed and rested a hand over his aching head. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. But it was an escape from reality, if only temporary, that he desperately needed- that is, until the next time he did something for her, and only her.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: I apologize for the long delay between chapters. For a quick overview of where I've been, check out my FFN profile. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me during the wait.

Incidentally, I have no idea if the thing with the fangs is canon or not (I seriously doubt it) or if it's ever been used before (I would bet money on it), but for the purposes of this story I have decided to chalk it up as A Saiyan Thing. Just like how I am going to chalk up my spell checker changing 'sportscar' to 'sport scar' when I did a final check before posting Chapter 19 to the It Figures category. Just something else to accept.

I also don't know if my explanation of the heart virus that Goku got and what exactly it does to a Saiyan is correct either but, as before, for the purposes of this story let's just pretend it is.

In this chapter you will see some even bigger events begin to unfold. Trust me. You will also catch the first titular line of this fic. You don't need to trust me this time. It's there. Read on. Don't forget to review!

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me, as he always faithfully does.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Twenty

Bulma looked down at Vegeta's prone form and fought back tears. She loved and cared deeply for every Saiyan she knew, and watching them all suffer and slowly die horrible, painful deaths was killing her inside. Losing her best friend to this virus had been bad enough. Losing her baby had been even worse. But this... watching Vegeta, the man who would always hold a special place in her heart, the man who she would always love, waste away like this truly was devastating to her. It not a good time, she knew, but it had to be done now. There was no time to wait.

The heart monitor beeped slower than it should have been but steadily. Vegeta's condition had improved slightly since she had given him the serum she'd created, but she had the unsettling feeling that it had been too little too late and prayed to Dende that she was wrong. After all, Vegeta _was_ still alive, even though he was on life support, and the serum _had_ destroyed the virus in both his and Gohan's systems, but it could not heal the damage that it had already wreaked upon their bodies. Fighting the androids had only exacerbated the problem; the virus resided in the heart and seemed to feed on a Saiyan's ki, doubly harming the heart by forcing it to work harder to compensate. The additional stress put upon their bodies from the extreme physical activity of fighting had further weakened their hearts, especially Vegeta's, considerably. Since Saiyans didn't get sick the way humans did, by the time he'd admitted that there was something wrong and he wasn't just overly fatigued- during which time he'd been hard on himself by forcing himself to work even harder- the damage had already been done.

She caught herself rubbing a hand over her swollen belly and turned away from the bed holding the man occupying her thoughts, the tears she'd been fighting back escaping from her eyes. Biting her lip, she hastily gathered the things she needed. She knew that no matter what she did, nothing could change what had already taken place here, but just as Geta had drawn comfort from coming back in time to warn them of the androids, she too found comfort in going back in time herself to inoculate the people she loved most who had been killed by this horrible virus. Maybe, just maybe, they could benefit by knowing about the virus as she had by knowing about the androids before they had attacked. "I'm going now, Geta," she told her son in a trembling voice.

"Are you sure about this, Mother? I would be happy to go for you," Geta offered.

Bulma shook her head. "You know that I'm the only one besides your father who knows enough about the this serum and the computer program to administer the proper dosage," she objected. "If you don't give them enough, it won't work. If you give them too much, it'll... it'll..."

"Kill them," Geta finished emotionlessly, voicing the words she couldn't bring herself to say.

Bulma nodded, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "Besides, the serum will only be viable for one more day, maybe a day and a half," she whispered. "I have to go now, despite how your father will react."

Geta nodded, hugging his mother gently. "Be careful," he told her. "I love you, Mother, and I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Sweetie," she whispered, hugging him back. "I love you, too."

* * *

Bulma hauled herself out of the time pod and re-encapsulated it. _I definitely hadn't designed that thing with extremely pregnant women in mind,_ she mused mentally. She gathered up her courage and made her way up to the house.

Before she could get there, however, the door burst open and Geta rushed out. Evidently, he'd seen the flash of the pod or sensed the rift in the stream of time when it arrived. That didn't surprise her; he of all people would know what that felt like. Slack-jawed, he blinked and shook his head. "M-Mother?" he asked incredulously. His eyes were glued to her enormous belly.

"Now you know how I felt when you showed up," she joked, trying desperately to stay calm. "But I have to do something important, and it has to be done _now_. Where is everyone?"

"Uhm, Father is training, you and Anya are shopping and the kids are sleeping," he mumbled, still shocked by the sudden appearance of another version of his mother, who, judging by the, well, _shape_ of her, was from the future. "Gramps and Gram are at a conference."

"You need to call Anya and me and get them back here ASAP, as well as the Sons," she instructed. "Also, get your father and the boys, and meet me in the lab. Do it_ now_. I'll set up my things while you do that."

Seeing the resolute look on her face, Geta decided not to press the issue and just do as he was told. "Okay, I'll get right on it," he agreed, guiding her into the house. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

Bulma gave him a lopsided grin. "I'm pregnant, Son, not disabled. I'll grab myself a quick snack and head down to the lab. Now, go. This is serious."

Geta disappeared, and she headed for the kitchen. Hopefully she could get what she really wanted without being caught. She opened the fridge and pulled out a familiar container; sure enough, it contained the little pieces of raw meat that Vegeta would feed their son. Taking one last surreptitious glance over her shoulder, she ate a few of bites of it, hoping the cravings she'd been experiencing would subside. She'd been so absorbed in her rush to leave that she'd neglected to eat anything before she left.

She shoved the container back into the fridge and grabbed a plate, filling it with food before rushing down to her lab.

* * *

"So, what was so important that you had to drag us all back in here?" Vegeta complained, crossing his arms irritably. "You know I haven't had the chance to train all week." His sensitivities were still stinging from the last blow dealt to them by Bulma, and he was determined that he would no longer be the soft, weak man that she had beaten him down to. No, not anymore.

Geta drew in a deep breath. "Believe it or not, we have a visitor from the future."

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "From the future? Who?"

"You," Geta told her calmly as her eyes widened. "Just to warn you all, she's pregnant. _Very_ pregnant. So don't freak out when you see her."

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Whaaa..." _Pregnant? _Me?_ But Hiroshi doesn't want kids, so who..._

"Really? Wow, that's great!" Goku exclaimed happily, continuing on to voice her question. "Who's the-"

"She didn't say and I didn't ask," Geta interrupted, shooting a quick sideways glance at Vegeta. His father had been as surprised as the others but, despite now appearing completely expressionless, was unable to conceal the torrent of emotions from the questions undoubtedly running through his mind and everyone else's; despite his resolve, his eyes betrayed him to anyone who knew him well enough to know how to look. "That's her business."

"Do you know what this is all about, Geta?" Gohan asked.

Geta shook his head. "All I know is what I told you. She arrived, insisted that I find everyone, came into the house and raided the fridge before heading down to her lab." He jerked a thumb toward the pile of empty dishes in the sink.

"Boy, I figured you'd had a snack or something, Vegeta," Goku said, tipping his head thoughtfully. "She must really be hungry."

Bulma blushed slightly. "Well, I sorta did eat like that during the last couple months I was pregnant," she confessed. "Of course, I _was_ carrying this little man, wasn't I?" she cooed to her infant son, nuzzling him with her nose and making him giggle. She paused. "If she's eating like that, she must be pretty far."

"She's ginormous," Geta quipped, smirking, "just like those pictures of you I saw in the photo album."

"Mom strikes again," Bulma sighed, knowing full well who it was that had put pictures of her while pregnant in the photo album.

Geta winced. "I'm getting chewed out. Let's get down to the lab before she fries my brain." He turned his head to look at his mother. "I didn't think you were so adept at establishing telepathic links."

The room was silent as everyone waited for her answer.

"I… I'm not," she whispered. "I can converse, like anyone else here could, but I can only _answer_ when one of _you_ contacts me."

The room was silent again for a few seconds before Vegeta turned on his heel and headed for the lab.

"Hey Pops, wait up!" Anya called after him, following close behind. The others shrugged and followed suit.

* * *

Bulma shoved another bite of food into her mouth and resumed typing rapidly on the laptop she'd set up, initializing the program she'd written. Her eyes moved over the screen. "It's about time you all decided to show up," she mock complained with her mouth full, without looking up from her computer.

Again, silence filled the room, save for the sound of her fingers tapping the keys. She paused and looked up, drawing in a deep breath and covering her lower face with her hands when she saw them. "Dende," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. She hauled herself out of her chair with a small grunt and stood to face them.

"Bulma?" Chi-Chi asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Bulma answered. She nibbled at her lower lip as she scanned the group, then her eyes returned to Goku. A tear trickled down her cheek. "Oh, Goku... I'm so happy to see you."

Goku gave her a lopsided little grin. "I'm happy to see you too, Bulma- whoa!" He chuckled in surprise when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug. "Hey, what's this all about? You're acting like you haven't seen me in years."

She didn't answer, but let him go and slowly moved over to her younger self. It was evident that she was struggling to hold in her emotions as her eyes fell on the baby in her arms. "May I?" she whispered, holding out her hands.

Bulma blinked in surprise. "Oh! Of course," she responded, handing VJ over. The older woman's response confused her; she had snatched up the child and held him closer than a lifeline as she tried to choke back sobs.

"Bulma, why don't you tell us why you are here and what this is all about? This is more than just a little unnerving."

The sniffling woman lifted her head and looked at the owner of the voice that had just addressed her. Facing Vegeta, awake and in good health, was proving to be equally difficult. "You're right, I'm sorry," she apologized, handing the baby back to his mother. She sniffled and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I am obviously from the future. Thank you," she said, accepting a tissue from Chi-Chi.

"Hey, Bulma, you're married?" Gohan asked, pointing to her hand.

Bulma paused. She'd forgotten about the ring, but there really wasn't any point in hiding her relationship status. She sighed. "Well, uhm... sort of." She looked at the floor. "Not exactly, but I still think of him as my husband," she murmured a little wistfully.

"So, I'm with someone but not married?"

The Bulma from the future looked at her younger counterpart. "That is _my_ situation, yes. But I'm going to make it clear right now that I have a definite reason to be here which does not include answering any 'What happens to me in the future?' questions from anyone. What you choose to do with your lives may be completely different than how things turned out in my time. In fact, I hope to Dende that things do turn out differently."

"Dende, Bulma?" Anya queried.

Bulma bit her lip. "Whoops. It's still Kami now, isn't it? Ah, well."

"Can I call you something else besides Bulma, like how we call him Geta?" Gohan asked, jerking his thumb Geta's way. "This is going to be confusing otherwise."

"Hmmm..." The future Bulma thought about this. "I see your point. Sure, I guess so. Just not 'Woman,' okay?" she teased, shooting a look Vegeta's way.

"No problem, Female," Vegeta responded.

_He should know better by now than to try to hide his emotions from me of all people._ Bulma rolled her eyes. "That's even better, thanks. It doesn't really matter. I can't stay here long."

"Okay, so what are you here for, B?" Goku asked brightly. "Why were you so upset earlier?"

Good ol' Goku. The newly dubbed 'B' couldn't help but smile at her friend. "I guess that solves the easy problem. As for the rest of you, listen up, and listen good." She turned to Geta. "Do you ever recall me mentioning something about how any of us die, Goku in particular?" she asked.

Goku jumped in startled surprise. "What?"

"I know most of the Z-senshi died in battle against the androids. Goku disappeared on a trip he made and never came back, and Chi-Chi could tell that something must have happened to him but didn't know how or what," Geta mused. "I was so little when it all happened, but you did mention it around me once or twice. You rarely spoke about the way any of the z-senshi died. I think it was too painful for you."

B nodded. "Things are very different in the future I come from than the future you come from," she told him. "Your coming back in time to warn us about the androids prepared us for their arrival, but there was something else, something even worse that you couldn't possibly have known to warn us about."

Geta's eyebrow rose. "What could be worse than the androids?"

"A virus," B responded somberly. "Despite the Saiyans' excellent immune systems, they somehow contracted a virus that attacks the heart, causing severe damage and death," she managed in a shaky voice. It was obvious that she was struggling not to break down again. "I'm guessing that Goku must have been the first one to die because of it."

"A virus?" Goku echoed, alarmed. "I die because of a stupid virus? What about Super Saiyan? That doesn't give me any advantage?"

"I think Super Saiyan actually _contributes _to the problem," B explained. "While Saiyans are inherently much stronger than the average human is, going Super Saiyan makes the heart work even harder, speeding up the process." She dabbed her face. "My little boy got sick. By the time I figured out what was wrong..." She trailed off.

Bulma gasped loudly as realization hit her, clutching VJ to her chest hard enough to make him whimper. "Oh, Kami, no... please don't tell me..."

"I'm sorry, Bulma," B whispered. "Daddy and I were horrified when we found out about this virus, but we figured that it must have been something one of the guys contracted while in space, since Vegeta couldn't recall any record of Saiyans dying of heart disease. We worked tirelessly on a cure, but..." She looked down at her hands.

Vegeta's jaw clenched. He would not, could not, allow this to happen. "You mentioned Super Saiyan being a problem," Vegeta interjected gruffly in a poor attempt to disguise his anxiety. "Had Vegeta ascended? How old was he?"

B scratched her head contemplatively. "He was... let's see, four years old when he ascended, yes," she answered, giving him a teary-eyed grin as his jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Four!" Vegeta exclaimed. "I didn't even fly until I was almost four, and he _ascends_ when he's four?"

B held up her hands. "Wait just a minute, now. I already told you that things may or may not happen the same way for you as they did for me, but I _can_ tell you that you were rather merciless when it came to training him." She looked sad. "It hurts so badly to think about him. I was close, _so_ close, to finding the one missing piece of the puzzle, and he... he died in my arms." Her face dropped into her hands and her sobs began anew. "Why? Why my baby? He was such a sweet, precious little boy, always happy and smiling. I loved him _so_ much. Everyone did. He didn't even get a chance to really live..."

Vegeta felt his heart wrenching within his chest. His son, the only good thing he had left which was truly his, was going to die. Shouldn't the father die before the son? This had to be his fault, since he failed to keep his son safe. Did he carry this virus as well? Could he have passed it on to Bulma, and by extension, their son? He had failed to keep not only his son but his mate safe. Seeing Bulma mourn like this only made things worse. Swallowing hard, he walked over to the crying woman and held her gently, ignoring the others in the room.

B shook her head. "N-no, don't," she objected, pulling away. "I- I can't, Vegeta. It h-hurts too much."

Disregarding her protests, he shoved back the part of his mind that didn't want to ignore his pride and held fast, letting her small fists strike his chest in impassioned protest.

She went limp in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder and her hands fisted in his shirt as she sobbed. He stroked her hair gently and let her cry, trying not to let the others see that he was blinking quite rapidly himself. Gradually she quieted and stepped back from him, mopping her face with the tissue Chi-Chi had given her. "Thanks, Vegeta," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he murmured back, a little embarrassed by the others seeing what he had done. At the same time, he was glad that the woman he loved, who knew better than anyone how difficult it had been for him to do what he had done in front of everyone else, had seen how much he cared about both her and their son. When he'd felt the bulge of the child within her womb pressing against him, he'd wondered and wished for more than anything he'd ever wanted that it was _his_ child she carried, and it had nearly driven him out of his mind. She would never tell him, and somehow she was blocking him from being able to sense the child's ki. Smart woman.

B sniffled. "I-I'm sorry. It's just difficult for me because every day, I have to watch _you_ waste away a little more," she admitted.

Vegeta stared at her in shock. "Me?" he said in a barely audible voice.

_That's right... he hadn't told me he'd ascended yet at this point._ "Think about it, Vegeta. Of _course_ you become a Super Saiyan," B responded a little indignantly. "Don't you remember me saying that I believed in you? That I knew it wasn't a question of if, but only when it would happen?"

Vegeta nodded. He had tried to forget that afternoon and how he had hurt her so badly. "Yes, I remember." He looked her in the eyes. "So I'm sick, too?"

"Yes," B confirmed. "You... you're on life support," she whispered. "It's so hard to see you barely hanging on like that after having seen you stand so proud and tall for so long." She gave him a shaky smile. "But I'm determined to change things for all of you, even if I can't change things for myself."

"But what about the Dragonballs?" Gohan asked. "Couldn't you use them to bring everyone back?"

B shook her head. "No. The dragon can't raise someone who died of natural causes or someone he's already raised, remember? Both your dad and my son would qualify for 'natural causes,' and Vegeta's already been raised by Shenlon, so if he... if he dies, he can't be raised again." She sighed. "Besides, the Dragonballs aren't ready to be used yet. The regen tank isn't strong enough to kill the virus, and I couldn't get hold of any senzu beans until it was too late."

"What do you mean, too late?" Anya asked.

"Take a look at your father-in-law, Sweetie," B told her. "He's eaten plenty of them, but his tail is still gone. He has a lot of old scars that will never fade completely. Senzu beans can't heal old injuries. The virus has already devastated his heart badly enough that it's beyond healing. The only hope is that he can hang on long enough to allow for the Dragonballs to regenerate. A heart transplant operation would kill him like that," she continued, snapping her fingers for emphasis, "and probably wouldn't work anyway since it would have to be a human donor, which is just too much of a difference genetically that it would be too much of a shock to his body and would immediately be rejected by it. It might have worked for VJ, but..." She sighed sadly. "Hanging on that long just doesn't look very probable, to be honest." She frowned sadly.

"Couldn't we all just eat a senzu bean right now?" Goku asked, puzzled. "Wouldn't that heal the virus from our bodies?"

"That's a good idea, Goku, but for some reason senzu beans don't appear to be effective against the virus itself, either." She shook her head. "If they were, you'd be completely healthy right now since you eat them while sparring."

"You said you came here to change things for us. So, what are our options?" Vegeta asked. "We need to at least help the children."

"Do any of us survive this virus unscathed?" Geta added before B could answer.

"Yes, you, little Vegeta and Gohan pulled through," B confirmed, pulling a capsule out of her pocket. "I managed to come up with this just in the nick of time for Gohan, anyway." She pushed the little plunger on the capsule and tossed it onto the table next to her laptop. It exploded into a small box, which, when she opened it, contained some small vials and various medical supplies. "Come on over here," B instructed, waving them over.

"What is it-" Goku yelped and leapt backwards mid-sentence. "Those are _needles!_" he shrieked. "You're not going to stick me with a needle, are you?"

"Wussy boy," Vegeta taunted, sneering at his terrified subject.

"Of course not," B soothed.

Goku visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank Kami," he sighed, relieved.

"I'm going to stick you with a needle _and_ one of those little blades doctors use to get a small blood sample," she corrected him. "If I see something questionable, I may stick you a third time to draw some more blood."

"Buullllma!" Goku wailed. "I _hate_ needles!"

"Goku Son! Would you rather be poked a couple of times or be dead again?" Chi-Chi chastised her husband irritably.

Goku actually seemed to be considering this. "I really hate needles- ow!" His hand rubbed the back of his head gingerly. "Was that really necessary?" he complained, scowling at Chi-Chi, who had smacked him upside his head.

"Yes. Thank you, Chi," B commented, easing herself back down into her chair with a groan. "Man, I feel like a beached whale. Now come over here and roll up your sleeve like a man. I'm in no condition to chase you down today."

"I'm not wearing long sleeves," Goku pointed out childishly.

"It wasn't meant to be literal, Dad. Come on," Gohan coaxed his father, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "It's not that bad."

"Says you," Goku muttered darkly, crossing his arms and glowering at the case with the needles darkly.

"Bulma and Vegeta, I need you to look on while I do this," she instructed, pulling out the rest of her equipment. "I've set this laptop up and I'm going to leave all of this here when I go back home so you can keep testing your blood on your own." She beckoned Goku with a finger. "Look, I'm doing you first so they can watch and so we can get you done and over with, okay?"

"Oh, all right," Goku conceded. "I guess it _is_ better than being dead." He presented his arm to her.

"Let me put it to you this way, Goku. You're the little brother I never had and I love you. I don't want to lose you, and burying my son was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You don't want to put the people you love through that any sooner than it really being your time to go."

"I... I'm sorry, B," Goku whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know, Goku." She took an alcohol swab and rubbed one of his fingers with it, then got out the little blade to prick him with. "So, any thoughts about what you're having for dinner tonight?"

"Hmm. Probably fish," Goku decided thoughtfully. "Gohan and I - owwww!"

"Hold still," B complained, squeezing the fleshy pad of his finger below the fingertip around the tiny wound to make the blood well up. She wiped it away with another alcohol swab and squeezed his finger again to get some more blood to come out. "Goku Son, if you don't stop squirming I'm going to have Vegeta do this to you. You know how squeamish he is."

Vegeta grinned ferally. "Oh, yeah."

"But Vegeta's not squeamish- oh. Right." He watched as Bulma made his blood drip onto a small strip, which she then inserted into a machine and pushed a couple of buttons.

"So this will test for the presence of the virus in Kakarrot's blood?" Vegeta asked, peering with interest at the small machine.

"Yes, and I'll use the reading I get to determine how much of this serum I have that he needs. It doesn't keep very long and I don't know when I'll be able to round up everything I need make more of it, which is why I had to come here right away and get you all here so quickly the way I did," B explained. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk, then looked at the machine.

She used some hand sanitizer and ate a few bites of an apple, then looked at the machine.

She peered at her laptop, then looked at the machine. It still wasn't done. "Oh, for Den- whoever's sake, hurry it up already!" B shouted at the little contraption. "Top of the line, my-"

She shut up immediately when the thing beeped, and grabbed it to read the results. She squinted, then looked again.

Bulma handed VJ to Chi-Chi and stepped a little closer. "Can I help?" she offered, feeling a little useless just standing there and doing nothing.

"Not unless you can read Saiyan. I didn't know how yet at this point in time."

Bulma shook her head; now, she really _did_ feel useless.

B squinted as she tried to read the screen, her nose nearly touching it, and sighed in frustration. /Veg, is that a two or a seven? I wish I'd brought my glasses. My prescription changed when I got pregnant again./

He didn't reply, but just stood there and stared at her.

/Well? Two or seven? Vegeta!/ B thwapped him on the arm.

Vegeta looked at the little readout. /Neither. It's a nine./

B peered at the alien symbol on the readout again. /Oh, right. Thanks./

/Sure. When did you learn to speak Saiyan?/ Like Anya, B's accent was quite heavy, but she was completely understandable.

B paused. "I didn't even realize I was doing that. Huh. I guess it was just second nature after reading it just now. I decided I didn't want to be left in the dark when you taught Saiyan to our son, so I paid attention when I heard you speak it to him and bugged you to teach me, too. The program is written in Saiyan to prevent it from being used by the wrong people." She put an elbow on the desk and rested her chin in her hand. /So I suppose you should teach her sooner than later, hmm?/ She looked up at him, one eyebrow rising.

"Oh. Right." Vegeta leaned over her shoulder to watch as she put the test results into the computer. "Bulma, are you watching this?"

"Yes, I see it," Bulma confirmed, stepping a little closer. She suddenly realized that when she'd seen the two of them comfortably interacting the way they were, she'd felt left out, unimportant.

Jealous?

No, that was just ridiculous.

Of course, Vegeta wasn't teaching _her_ Saiyan yet.

Vegeta's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"I- I'm afraid so," B responded in a shaky voice.

"What? What is it?" Chi-Chi asked, wringing her hands anxiously. "Is my Goku sick yet?"

"He's loaded."

"Oh," Goku said in a barely audible voice.

"Vegeta... For Kami's sake, show a little compassion for the man for once," B chastised. "Don't you worry, Goku. We're going to take control of the situation before it becomes serious," she promised. "I've got some serum that will help you get well."

"Okay. Thanks."

_Poor Goku! I've never seen him so worried like this before._ "I promise you that Vegeta and I will keep using this equipment to keep tabs on you," Bulma assured her friend, going over to him and giving him a hug. "We're catching this early, right? When we check Vegeta, Geta and the boys, we can inoculate them before they get sick, too. You'll see."

"You, Anya and Chi-Chi, too. Incidentally, I've already inoculated myself," B informed Bulma.

"You? And why us? We aren't Saiyans," Bulma asked in confusion.

"Because of the way this virus is spread," B explained as she prepared her equipment for the next test. "Typically, it's through body fluids. Like I mentioned earlier, I imagine Goku or Vegeta must have contracted it somehow while off in space, since this virus isn't like anything I've ever seen or heard about before on Earth. Regardless, it's easy to see how it could be spread between the men since they're fond of sparring together and they always seem to get all bloody. As for the women, let's just say that body fluids are also involved with wild monkey love, which you're obviously no stranger to." She looked up from her laptop and smirked when Bulma turned a lovely shade of pink and shifted the baby in her arms.

"Wild monkey love?" Gohan repeated with a grin.

"Bulma!" Chi-Chi complained, covering her son's ears with a little more force than necessary.

Anya only giggled. Wild monkey love! She'd have to remember that one.

Vegeta had gone a little red himself. "Uhm, yeah. So does that mean they'll get sick, too?"

"No, but they're carriers and can spread it, not only back and forth between themselves and their mates but to an unborn child should a pregnancy occur. There's no telling when whoever got it first spread it on or how long the virus will have lain dormant in their systems, since it seems to be the huge change of ki levels during the transformation to Super Saiyan that triggers it, since the heart has to work harder to compensate." B frowned. "I want to check the Z-Senshi, too, since they _could_ be carriers if any blood drawn during sparring got into a cut or one of the body's open areas like the eyes or mouth and they could pass it back again the same way they got it. Even my parents and some of the Capsule Corp medical staff would be good candidates too, in the event that the virus decides to mutate."

Vegeta contemplated this. "Hmm. The mouth, huh? Well, how about saliva? Should you check what's-his-name too? Assuming, however, that would be the only reason to check him," he commented.

Bulma blushed violently. "Not that it's any of your business, Vegeta," she snapped. She was still irritated at him for his comments the other day and didn't need any more badmouthing of her relationship with Hiroshi from him.

"Both of you shut up." B massaged her temples tiredly. "This is important!"

"You are correct, and I apologize for my poorly phrased inquiry regarding your personal life. It is none of my business and I will leave that aspect of your life to you, as long as our son is not involved," Vegeta apologized, unable to completely hide the bitterness in his voice. "_Trust_ me, I have no desire to know the details. I was only looking out for your and our son's best interests, especially since you are still nursing him."

Bulma's eyes widened; she had not considered the fact that she was still nursing her son as a possible way of transmitting this virus to him if he didn't already have it. "Is... is that a possibility?"

"Infection through saliva or breast milk? I have no idea." B shrugged helplessly. "Sweat or other body wastes, even? I never thought to check any of those possibilities. Typically I'd say most likely no, but since this is no ordinary virus it could be feasible. But for now, let's get this testing done and the serum dispensed."

* * *

"So, you definitely have it, too?"

Vegeta set his cup of coffee on the countertop and turned to Bulma, who was standing behind him, their son in her arms. He nodded. "Yes, but it is nowhere near as advanced as Kakarrot's is. For some reason Geta doesn't have it at all, so I must have gotten it from Kakarrot while sparring, or something like that." He shrugged. "I wonder how Geta could not have it, since..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Bulma knew what it was that he didn't want to say- how could Geta not even be a carrier while their infant son was? Even she had the dreaded virus. "I know," Bulma whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

"I'll do whatever it takes to save you and our baby," Vegeta said solemnly, gently cupping his son's little head with one large hand. "You have my word on that." He smiled soberly at the boy, who was staring at him with those huge, innocent blue eyes.

It was strange the way Vegeta had phrased his statement- he'd said 'our baby' instead of 'the boy,' or even 'our son.' Bulma felt her heart swell. It couldn't be any more evident to her that Vegeta did indeed care deeply for the son he'd fathered. She nodded. "I never doubted that, Vegeta," she whispered. "I want you to know that I'm prepared to do the same."

Vegeta removed his hand from the baby's head and brushed a strand of hair back from her face, cupping her cheek. "Whatever it takes," he repeated in a whisper. "I would do anything for you, Bulma._ Anything_."

The way those soft blue eyes were looking at him made him forget about everyone and everything but her. Without even thinking, Vegeta leaned in closer to her. She seemed just as affected and wasn't moving back to prevent what he was about to do, so he brushed a kiss ever so gently across her lips. She shivered at the contact, and he brought his lips back down to hers. He slid his arms around her and just begun to give her an honest to goodness kiss when he heard voices outside the door.

He broke the kiss and turned away, leaning heavily against the countertop. She heard him curse in frustration and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Bulma, there you are," B announced as she entered the kitchen. "We actually managed to round everyone up."

"Great," Bulma agreed, still a little distracted. "I think it's a good idea to check them, too. Once I track down Mom and Dad, we'll be all set."

B nodded. "By the way, I think Chi-Chi was looking for you."

"Oh. Thanks. I'll go see what she needs," Bulma mumbled, making a hasty retreat from the kitchen.

"Hey. You okay?" B asked casually once her younger self was out of earshot. She could tell from Vegeta's stance and the fact that he didn't look at her that he wasn't happy. She didn't need to be a genius to interpret what must have happened, especially after the way her flustered younger self had fled the room.

"Sure, whatever." Vegeta was not going to offer her anything.

B rolled her eyes. "Please. You can drop the tough guy attitude and talk to me, can't you?" She came a little more into the room. "I take it I interrupted something here?"

"You could say that," Vegeta admitted. His voice again had an edge of bitterness and frustration to it.

"I see." B did not offer any apologies for what had happened.

Was she truly unconcerned about it? Glad? Sorry, but not wanting to lead him on? Vegeta couldn't tell. "So, how does your husband think about you coming here like this?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He doesn't know. I left while he was sleeping." She gave him a sheepish little look when he turned around to face her.

"You didn't tell him? Won't he wonder where you are?"

"Geta knows," B explained. "Besides, it wouldn't be any surprise to him if he discovered I'd come here. He knows that my family and friends are important to me."

Vegeta paused before responding, as if uncertain that he wanted to hear the answer. "Am I someone important to you?" he asked quietly.

"Of course you are. You're my little boy's father," B responded, "and a good friend to me. I love all of my friends, Vegeta. That's why I'm here." His unspoken question had not gone unnoticed.

He stared at her expressionlessly. "How does he feel about that?"

"He's a good man. He understood exactly what it was he was getting into when we got together." B smiled. "He knows that you'll always hold a very special place in my heart."

Vegeta was silent for a moment and she could tell his heart was breaking, no matter how hard he was trying to conceal his emotions. "Do I know him?"

B raised an eyebrow at him. "You know I can't tell you that, Veg."

"I know," he conceded. He hadn't expected that she would actually answer that particular question. "But tell me a little about him. What's he like?"

B smiled blissfully. "He's wonderful. Tall, dark, and _devastatingly_ handsome. Like your typical fairy tale hero."

"Oh," Vegeta said after a moment's pause. He stared down at the floor, visibly crushed by her revelation. She'd said_ tall_. Vegeta knew quite well that he wasn't exactly someone who one would describe as being tall.

"He was so good to our son. Yours and mine, I mean," she added.

"I'm glad to hear that," Vegeta told her honestly. "I guess we aren't talking about Hiroshi, then?"

B pulled a face and made a disgusted noise. "That utter asshole? Great Kami, no! I have no idea what I was _thinking _when it comes to him."

Vegeta held in a sigh. "That's a relief." He looked back up at her. There was another question, a very important one, that he had to ask, no matter how painful hearing the answer was. "Are... are you happy?"

B nodded and gave him a little smile, despite how seeing the way he'd crumpled like a leaf at the word 'tall' had torn her heart to shreds. "Very." She sighed, her face sobering. "Vegeta, any fool could see that this is a sore spot for you. Why are you torturing yourself by asking me about all of this?"

"Because having a special place in your heart isn't enough for me. _I _want to be that tall, dark and devastatingly handsome man so dear to you. I want the child in your womb to be _my_ child," he choked out. "I know I screwed up with you, Bulma, and I _hate_ myself for hurting you every day of my miserable existence. Nothing I say or do will convince her otherwise of that. You even broke up with that freak Hiroshi, and where did that get me?" He shook his head violently, and B felt her stomach do a flip-flop when she realized that he was actually just barely managing to hold back tears. "_Tell_ me what I need to do to be a better man, to earn her forgiveness, and I _swear_ by the graves of my ancestors that I'll do it," he pleaded. "I'll do _anything_ to win back her love."

B found herself fighting back tears of her own when he turned away and leaned against the countertop again, unable to look at her. He had just laid bare his heart and soul to her, casting aside the pride which was so important to him, so much an integral part of him. She could tell he had lost the battle against his emotions when she heard him sniffle quietly, his head hanging in shame.

The last thing she had wanted to do was hurt and humiliate him. "Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, coming very close to breaking down and telling him the things he wanted to hear, the things he _shouldn't _hear. But she knew that telling him anything would only complicate the issue. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But I'm afraid I can't give you a straightforward answer. If you're serious about this, and I know you are, you need to find the way on your own. You already know one thing for sure that you need to do. You know what it is that she needs from you."

She saw him wipe at his face with the back of his hand, and he nodded. "I know," he managed. So much for not being weak. Instead, he was sniveling like a child who'd been punished.

"What I _can_ tell you is no matter what, don't give up." B put a hand on his shoulder. "Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta."

He didn't speak, but straightened up and nodded again.

Bulma came back into the kitchen, VJ in her arms. "Vegeta, are you still in here- oh." She regarded the scene in front of her with both curiosity and confusion. "Am I interrupting something?"

Vegeta shook his head and let out a bitter little laugh; how ironic it was that she'd ask the same question. "No, no... what did you need, Bulma?" His voice was shaky.

"Uhm, we were thinking of ordering Chinese for lunch and I just wanted to know if you had a preference," she responded a little hesitantly.

"No, whatever you decide to get is fine."

She frowned. "Okay. Are you all right, Veg?"

"Fine," he answered. "Thanks."

VJ began to whimper and held his arms out to his father. "Da-ee! Da-ee!" He struggled in Bulma's arms, trying to free himself.

There was no more hiding for Vegeta as he turned and took his son from Bulma. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll bring him in with me," he informed her, not meeting her eyes. He passed by the two women, eyes averted.

Bulma watched him leave and turned to her older counterpart when she was sure he was gone. Vegeta had looked terrible. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, and he'd looked like he was about to break down as he clutched their son firmly against his chest. She'd _never_ seen him that emotional. "Was he actually..."

"Yes, and I would let it go if I were in your shoes," B confirmed quietly. "There was only one other occasion that I've seen him cry. It was when he laid our son in his coffin. He may not ever admit it to you, but he truly, dearly loves that child. I think he believes VJ is all he has left, and now the boy is going to die," she said soberly.

"Oh, Kami..." Bulma shuddered at the very thought of it. "Is that what you were talking about?"

B shook her head. "No."

"Then what did you say to him to make him so upset that he'd _cry?_" Bulma asked, astonished and saddened at the same time.

"Bulma, Bulma... don't pretend to be so naïve," B chastised. "You know very well what we were talking about. Unfortunately, he didn't hear what it was he wanted to hear."

Bulma's face reddened; whether it was in embarrassment or anger, B wasn't certain. "What did you say to him?" she demanded.

"I wouldn't give him any straightforward answers to his questions, and I'm not going to for you, either. Suffice to say he asked about my husband, and since he was genuinely concerned about whether or not I was happy, I did give him a brief description of him. He is at a loss now as to what he can do, since he desperately wants more than anything to fit the bill." B sighed. "I so didn't want to hurt him, but I felt that he at least deserved to know that I was happy and our son was well cared for. But it broke my heart to see him this way."

"Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, feeling simply awful about the whole situation. "What should I do?"

"Don't look at me," B responded, stepping back, palms forward. "As I already told you, you need to live your life on your own terms, not how someone else dictates you should live it. Maybe what happened for me is no longer what's the best for you. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

Bulma pondered B's words carefully and nodded. "You're right. But as for Vegeta, did he not fit the bill, as you put it, at _all_ when it comes to your husband? Is that why he was so upset? He feels like it's hopeless for him?"

B scowled. "How can you make your own choices in life if you're fishing for details so you know what to look for? You can't. So make up your own mind about what to do with your life, Bulma. I can't tell you how to do that." She eased herself down onto a chair and kicked off her shoes. "Oh, my feet. If you're so concerned about him, well, do something about it."

"Of course I'm concerned," Bulma retorted. "I don't like seeing him this way."

"Are you insinuating that I do? It's pointless to try to pull the wool over _my_ eyes, Dear. You know as well as I do that no matter where he goes or what he does, you'll always love him." B raised an eyebrow, smirking, when her younger self blushed and averted her eyes. "Just order some hot and sour soup, sesame chicken, beef lo mein, and a bunch of egg rolls along with whatever else you're going to get. Oh, and don't forget the dinner rolls."

_Vegeta's favorite snack._ "All right," she agreed quietly. "That'll work."

* * *

Vegeta sat on the bench holding his son close against his chest. The baby had rested his downy little head upon his father's shoulder and was sucking his thumb contentedly. /See the bird, Vegeta?/ Vegeta asked his son softly. He pointed to the bird in question, which was perched on a branch of a nearby tree. /Can you see him in the tree?/

VJ lifted his head and followed his father's finger. His thumb fell out of his mouth and he burbled excitedly as the little bird hopped along the branch. His hand reached out and he stared with fascination at the feathered animal. "Oooohh..."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at his son's wide-eyed, innocent enthusiasm. /Can you say 'bird,' Vegeta? Bird,/ he prompted gently.

The boy turned his head to look at his father with wide blue eyes, then turned back to the bird.

/Bird,/ Vegeta repeated, pointing at the animal again.

VJ attempted the word, but let out a sigh of frustration.

/Try again, my son,/ Vegeta intoned softly, running his hand over the silky soft blue hair on his son's head. /Bird./

/Bird,/ the boy finally managed. He looked at his father expectantly.

/Yes, bird! Very good!/ Vegeta praised. Since he'd been forbidden to use his ki or overexert himself for the time being, which definitely included training, he was going to spend every moment he had with his son. He cuddled the boy close.

"Da-ee." VJ snuggled up against his father's chest, his little hand fisting the fabric of Vegeta's shirt.

Vegeta welcomed the arrival of the now familiar warmth inside his chest and smiled down at his son. The boy's eyelids had begun to droop; the sound of his father's heartbeat was lulling him off to sleep. _I wonder how much longer he'll be able to hear it_. He got up from the bench, his motion startling the bird, which flew away.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned, a little surprised by who he saw. "B."

"The food is here," B told him, walking closer. She smiled. He was such a good father. "The gardens are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," he agreed a little awkwardly. "I was just showing Vegeta the birds."

B nodded. "He always did love animals, especially birds." She gave him a sad little smile.

Vegeta was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I assume that you did not come here to fetch me to eat or to talk about birds," he murmured.

"No, I didn't," B agreed. "I wanted to tell you that I didn't want to hurt you today."

"I know. And you know that nothing is your fault." Vegeta held out a hand. "Come, I'll teleport us back inside."

B decided to let the subject drop. "You know you aren't allowed to do that," she reminded him. "I have no problem with walking, despite my condition."

He nodded. "You're right. I wasn't thinking about it." He gestured toward the exit, indicating that they should leave. "You've given me a lot to think about," he said quietly as they walked back to the house. "I have a lot of changes to make."

B smiled at him. "You've come so far already, Veg. Don't give up reaching your goals."

Vegeta nodded but said nothing else.

They entered through the kitchen and hung up their coats. "Hey, we're back. Let's eat!" B called out as they approached the dining room.

Bulma turned a little when they entered the room. "I see you found him."

B snagged a piece of chicken from one of the many containers on the big table. "Yup. Piece of cake." She popped the little fried morsel into her mouth and tapped her temple, giving her younger self a knowing look.

Bulma looked around. Vegeta was strapping their now alert son into his high chair and no one else was paying them any attention. "How did you learn to do that?"

B swallowed. "Vegeta, of course. You could do it too, if you mentally looked in the right place." She winked at her younger counterpart. "Man, this smells great. Let's eat."

Everyone sat down at the huge table. B chose one of the two remaining seats between Goku and Anya, which left one seat for Vegeta, who had been tending to his son.

It was right next to Hiroshi.

Vegeta gave B a withering look that clearly said 'thanks for nothing.' Hiroshi didn't look any happier about the seating arrangement, but B spoke up before he could say anything rude.

"Don't worry, you'll live. I decided I'd take my chances sitting next to Mr. Tidy Eater here," she said, smiling sweetly as Goku gave her a look of confusion.

"Who, me?" Goku asked, wary of the wooden spoon his wife had in her hand to whack his should he attempt to snitch any food before his turn came. He didn't know who else she could mean. After all, Anya was a 'Mrs.' and not a 'Mr.'

B gave him a look of amusement. "Yes, you. Sit down, Veg. He won't bite, but in case he does, I inoculated him myself."

Geta choked on the soda he was drinking and covered his mouth, causing Anya to whack him on the back as she tried to contain her own giggles. She wasn't the only one.

Little Vegeta's eyes grew wide and he let out a little shriek. "You a mean man! Don' bite Ganpa!" he shouted, scowling at Hiroshi in indignation.

Vegeta had a smirk on his face as he took his seat. B had made a definite statement by not only her words but by her refusal to sit by Hiroshi, and he was thoroughly enjoying the man's irritation. "Oh, don't worry about me, Vegeta," he assured the boy. "I've got much bigger teeth, see?" He bared his teeth, extending his large canines as far as they would go and running the tip of his tongue along one of them.

"Neat-o, Ganpa!" Vegeta yelled.

"All right now, Vegeta," Anya said, patting her son's hand gently. "Let's eat this tasty food before it gets cold." She had to agree with her son- watching a Saiyan extend his fangs was something she'd always found to be extremely cool.

"Please, can't we just have a peaceful meal?" Bulma exclaimed, not wanting to admit that she too found the Saiyans' ability to extend the length of their canines at will to be fascinating. She leaned forward in her seat at Hiroshi's opposite side. "You behave, got it?" she demanded, pointing at Vegeta.

Rather than become irritated, Vegeta decided to take advantage of the situation. "Of course, Dear. Anything for you." He winked at her openly, giving her a smooth smile.

Bulma blushed and sat back in her seat. It was bad enough that he was flirting with her to annoy her boyfriend, but he was doing it right in front of everyone! "I mean it, Vegeta." She took one of the containers and put some food on her plate.

Vegeta smirked at the angry man next to him and held up a container. "Almond chicken, Takashita?"

"Go to hell, you ignoramus," Hiroshi snarled, turning away haughtily. He had indeed been the one who had requested the almond chicken, but he'd be damned if he accepted it from that accursed monkey.

"Oh! I'll take it if Hiroshi doesn't want it, Vegeta!" Goku piped up excitedly. Goku loved almond chicken.

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta responded, cheerfully handing the container to him. "Dig in."

Bulma tossed down her chopsticks. "I've had enough already!" she shouted, standing up. "Stop making waves, Vegeta, or I'll... I'll..."

There were several nervous throat clearings as Vegeta rose as well. He would not back down this time. She was lucky he didn't snap her ugly boyfriend's miserable neck. "It's not as though you have any reason to make me sleep on the couch, there's no point in taking the GR away since I can't use it anyway, and you've already decided to be ticked off at me, so what else are you going to do, hmm?" He met her glare squarely.

"Children, let's eat our food while it's still hot," B spoke up. "I can't stay here much longer, so I have to make every moment count."

"Da-ee? Mama?" VJ asked. He didn't sound like the happy baby he normally was.

Vegeta let out a sigh. He would say something for his son's benefit. "It's all right, Vegeta," he said in a soothing tone. "Daddy said something unkind to Mama, and is sorry." He sat down again.

Bulma sat down as well and picked up her chopsticks. Her boyfriend was smirking at Vegeta, who was pointedly ignoring him. Neither of them were making the situation any better. "Pass the plum sauce, please."

"Here." Yamcha held out one of the little plastic containers that the restaurant had provided, glad for a break in the bickering. Vegeta hadn't been right in provoking Hiroshi, but at the same time, Yamcha couldn't blame him. He'd seen enough of the horrid man's behavior to know what he was truly like. Why couldn't Bulma see it? What did the man have to offer that made Bulma keep him around? He just didn't _get _it.

"Thanks." Bulma sliced open her egg roll and poured some of the sauce on it.

"Don't eat too much of that, Bulma," Hiroshi spoke up. "I noticed that you've put on some weight lately."

Bulma opened her mouth and shut it again, embarrassed. Why did he have to point it out to everyone? "All right, Hiroshi."

"Shut the hell up and let her eat the Kami damned egg roll," Vegeta snapped, recalling the time that Mrs. Briefs had done the same thing. "It's your words that will make her put on weight, not a harmless egg roll."

Hiroshi scoffed at him. "What the hell do you know about anything concerning Bulma? And as if I could _speak _to make anyone fat. You truly are an idiot."

Vegeta drew in a breath. "What do I know about Bulma? Hmm, let's see. For starters, her favorite ice cream is triple chocolate fudge brownie. Her favorite breakfast food is apple pancakes with caramel topping. Her favorite color is fuschia, although red suits her infinitely better which is why she wears it so often. She's allergic to bees which is why she just put sugar in her tea instead of honey. She loves horses and had a pony named Clip Clop as a child. She doesn't have any pets now because she doesn't have the time to properly devote to them, but would like to get a lab puppy someday, and yes, pun intended. She can't stand spiders but snakes are no big deal. Her favorite movie is 'Steel Magnolias' and she likes to eat popcorn with white cheddar cheese flavored seasoning when she watches it. She loves doing crosswords in languages other than Western and those extra difficult Sudoku puzzles. She likes playing any type of board game, especially chess against her father. It's her favorite game, unless you're talking video games. Then it's Tetris. She did a dissertation in college on Thomas Edison, whose work she admires. That's where Vegeta's middle name came from. She likes to knit booties for the employees at work with new babies. Booties are the only thing she knows how to knit. Bunny taught her. She likes to read either those trashy romance novels with the long-haired men and chesty women in erotic poses on the covers or Batman comic books, depending on her mood. Oh, and her birthday is in exactly two weeks, so I suggest you start shopping. I have a whole list I could continue to recite, but since you look _so _incredibly bored, I'll wrap it up by saying your words will put on weight because she tends to snack when she's anxious or upset, so go right ahead and keep at it, especially if you decide to offend her family and friends. Oh, and she's not fat, she's retaining water because her monthly cycle is soon, you idiot," Vegeta spat back. "But you didn't know any of that, did you? And you have the nerve to tell _me _I know nothing about Bulma." He snorted in disgust. "Fool."

Bulma stared at her plate. She had nothing to say in Hiroshi's defense, as everything Vegeta had said was true. He _did _know more about her than her boyfriend did, she realized with shock. She hadn't thought that he paid attention or cared about what she liked and what was important to her. She knew now that she'd been terribly wrong by her assumption.

"You truly are something else," Hiroshi spat back. "Thinking you're all that-"

"Both of you shut up!" B yelled for the second time that day, surprising them both.

Hiroshi scowled at her. "I don't know why everyone continues to defend this _stupid _monkey," he complained, ignoring B's outburst. "He's done nothing but disrupt everyone's lives. You were absolutely miserable when we met up again after he abandoned you for the second time, Bulma. Don't forget about that."

B set down her chopsticks. "You're the one being disruptive right now, Hiroshi," she told him, "and perhaps if you quit offending him and everyone else, he'd have no reason to act the way he does around you. You claim to be so much better than he is, but you haven't proven that tonight. Grow up." She picked her chopsticks back up. "Go ahead, tell me I don't know anything right in front of your girlfriend, if you think you have valid reason to dispute what I've said."

Hiroshi pursed his lips. What could he say to save face and not openly offend his girlfriend? "Whatever," he growled. "Give me the damn almond chicken." He reached over and snatched the container from Goku.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice," Goku complained. He frowned. "You could have just said you wanted some."

Krillin shook his head, his expression clearly telling his friend not to get involved, to let it go. "We guys'll grab lunch sometime this week, Bud. Don't stress over it."

Goku's frown lessened somewhat when Yamcha nodded in agreement. "Geta, Vegeta, is there a good day for you?"

Vegeta looked up from his plate. He'd had to force himself to continue to sit next to the cretin beside him and had completely lost his appetite. "I suppose whatever day Bulma doesn't need me to watch Vegeta," he said, managing to hide his surprise. While Goku always liked to hang around him to the point of being annoying, he hadn't expected to be invited by anyone other than Goku.

"Well, just get back with us when you figure stuff out," Krillin told him.

Vegeta nodded mutely. It was a weird feeling since he was used to being disliked, not for people to actually want to include him. He was just about to start eating again when his cell phone rang. His eyebrow rose when he saw who it was calling. "Excuse me." He got up from the table and stepped aside. "Hello, Shatsu."

"Oh, are they coming home?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta held up a finger indicating that he was listening to what was being said and that she should wait for a moment. "Yes, she's still here. Yes, seriously." He looked over to B, who waved at him, as her mouth was full. "Well, I would, but I'm restricted right now. But Geta could come. Are you ready right now?" There was another pause as the doctor responded. "All right. I'll have him come get you in half an hour. Okay. Bye." Vegeta flipped his phone shut and clipped it back onto his belt. He sighed, not wanting to sit back down next to Hiroshi, but also not wanting to make another scene. He sat down and rested his jaw in one hand, his elbow on the table.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Vegeta looked over at B, who was watching him expectantly. "No, I'm done. Help yourself." He held out his plate to her, his meal only half eaten.

B took the plate and placed it on top of her empty one. "Thanks. Mmm, beef lo mein..."

"Mmm, donuts..." Geta said in his best Homer Simpson voice. Everyone but Hiroshi laughed, and even Vegeta cracked a smile. He hadn't understood the reference the first time his son had done the impersonation, but Mrs. Briefs had gotten him to watch this show also, and he had to admit that it _was _amusing.

* * *

"You two are both clean," B said, shutting the laptop. "I would still check yourselves periodically, just to be safe."

"I'll see to it personally," Dr. Briefs assured her. "Thank you so much for coming." She'd shared her formula with him. While some of its components would be difficult to obtain, he had no doubts that he could manage it.

"Of course," B told him, giving him a hug. "All of you take care."

Mrs. Briefs' lips trembled and she pulled B into a hug. She could plainly see that would get another grandchild, but who was her daughter's husband? Poor Vegeta had to have been devastated at seeing her pregnant and with a husband. Hopefully it wasn't that wicked Hiroshi she was dating. "Oh, my dear girl," she murmured.

B smiled. "I love you too, Mom. But I've really got to go now. I've got a ton of things to do. If I hug all of you, I'll never get out of here." She waved to everyone. "Goodbye, all. Make sure to keep up with checking yourselves, got it?"

They all waved back.

"Bye!"

"We will!"

"Take care!"

"Give everyone my love. Especially your studmuffin son!"

"Anya!"

B chuckled, and, catching Vegeta's eye, gave him a two fingered wave that could easily have been interpreted as meant for everyone. He was standing off by himself, and she felt a twinge in her heart for him and how he must be feeling at that moment. "Goodbye, Vegeta. Don't forget to stand tall," B admonished him with a smile as she approached him. "Take good care of my little boy."

Vegeta nodded. "I will," he promised. "You take care, too."

"Thanks. I will," B repeated. She leaned down so she was level with the baby and stroked his hair gently. "Bye-bye, sweet baby. Be a good boy," she told him in a wavering voice.

The little boy bounced in his father's arms and cooed happily, giving her the huge smile he frequently gave other people, especially members of the family.

Vegeta watched B as she made her way over to the waiting time machine. He had so much to think about.

Wait!

_Tall, dark, and _devastatingly_ handsome..._

_Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta._

_Don't forget to stand tall..._

Vegeta's eyes widened with sudden realization. She had mentioned him standing tall on at least three separate occasions. Could she _really _mean...? "Wait!" he called after her, holding up a hand. He quickly gave the baby to Goku, who happened to be standing nearby and found himself thoroughly surprised by the prince's actions, and rushed after her.

She turned back to him. "Hmm?"

"I, uhm," Vegeta began, wracking his brain desperately for an excuse, "I never properly thanked you for coming here," he said quickly. "Thank you for giving us all hope."

She smiled brightly at him. "You're very welcome, Vegeta. I wouldn't have it any other way." Knowing how much it would it would mean to him, B stepped up to him and gave him a warm hug.

Not expecting this, he paused for a moment before enveloping her in his arms and hugging her back, closing his eyes and burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in her sweet scent. She smelled like the kiwi strawberry shampoo she used, that fragrant scent he'd grown fond of smelling when he'd lie down in bed at night and pull her into his arms to spoon her warm body against his. "Thank you for giving _me_ hope," he whispered just loudly enough for her to hear.

She pulled away enough to whisper in his ear. "You're welcome." She kissed his cheek and turned back to the pod. "Goodbye."

Wordlessly, he helped her up and into it, then took a few steps back. He watched as the pod rose into the air and hovered briefly before disappearing with a flash.

"Goodbye," he murmured, returning the two fingered wave.

The others stood in silence, waiting for him to do something. Bulma especially felt a little uncomfortable at seeing how familiarly the two had behaved, how despairingly he'd held her as she hugged him goodbye, the looks- despite being chaste- they'd exchanged on more than one occasion, the private conversations they'd had. Bulma knew she was in love with him, but what was she supposed to do? She had to admit to herself that she knew the answer to that. It would be difficult actually _doing _it and not looking snobbish or desperate. Besides, Vegeta needed to know that she wouldn't tolerate any further behavior like what he'd put her through. She wouldn't take any more cruel treatment, or the pain of him leaving her a third time without thought about her feelings on the matter. But, she truly didn't think he would do either of those things again.

Was she jealous of the attention he'd received from her future self, or even more likely, the _open_ affection and attention he'd shown her in return? Was she jealous of the fact that he'd opened up and poured out his heart to the point of tears to someone other than herself, a future version of herself, to add insult to injury?

She couldn't say for sure exactly what it was she was feeling. Or, maybe she was simply denying the true reason. Her thoughts were interrupted by Hiroshi's voice.

"So, what was that desperate little display of attention all about?" Hiroshi asked haughtily. "You just don't know when to give up and admit that you're the loser here, do you?"

"Hiroshi," Bulma groaned wearily. "Please."

Vegeta visibly bristled at the hated man's words and turned to face him. "Perhaps she did what she did because she is a compassionate enough person to actually care about other people, even including for some Kami-forsaken reason bloodthirsty, cold hearted, and emotionless sons of bitches such as myself," he retorted snidely. "Not that you'd know anything about that, or even notice it in the woman you have claimed even as she is standing right beside you." He retrieved his son from Goku. "Thank you, Kakarrot." He walked back toward the house with his son, standing tall with self-respect as he did so.

_Good for you, Vegeta._ "Sure, no problem, Vegeta," Goku responded quietly, his normal happy-go-lucky attitude distinctly missing. He hated witnessing interaction between Vegeta and Hiroshi and felt sorry for the older Saiyan. _What a jerk that guy is! I wonder what it is that Bulma sees in him? Maybe he just sees Vegeta as a threat, so he's mean to him._ "Chi, I think it's time to get going. I need to chop some wood and Gohan hasn't finished his homework yet," he spoke up, not wanting to be in the company of Bulma's disagreeable boyfriend any longer than necessary.

"That's right, young man. You're behind with your schoolwork," Chi-Chi decided, catching the discreet little look her husband had shot her. "We'd best get home so you can get started."

Bulma had seen the look and could tell something was up but made no comment. "Thanks for coming by, guys. We'll have to get together for a better reason soon."

"Definitely," Goku agreed. "Well, bye guys!" He paused, then gave her a sheepish little smile as he rubbed at the back of his head. "I kinda teleported us here. Got a plane we can borrow?"

* * *

"Bulma dear," Mrs. Briefs called out as she entered the den. "How does chicken pot pie sound for dinner? We haven't had that in simply ages."

Bulma kept herself from wincing; her mother seemed excited about the idea. "Sorry, Mom. Hiroshi and I are going out to dinner tonight."

Mrs. Briefs' face fell. "Oh. I see. I thought we decided that we were all going to talk about your future self's visit and what we need to do about it during dinner, but I suppose that could wait. Anyway, I'm sure Geta and Vegeta will be hungry, so it won't go to waste," she murmured.

"My ears are burning," Geta called out from the hallway, where he'd been passing by.

Mrs. Briefs stepped out into the hallway. "I was just telling Bulma that I was thinking about making chicken pot pie for dinner tonight," she told him a little hesitantly, "but she and Hiroshi are going out to dinner."

Geta frowned. "But, weren't we going to-"

Mrs. Briefs held up her hands to quiet him. "Yes, we were, but..." She lead him away from the den and Hiroshi's prying ears; to add to her disappointment, Hiroshi had been smirking smugly at her when Bulma had made it clear that she and the horrid man would be dining out that evening. She sighed. "I don't want to add any fuel to the fire, you know?"

Geta's frown deepened. "Yeah, I know," he muttered darkly. "Kami, I _hate _that man."

"Now, Dear," Mrs. Briefs chastised gently as they entered the kitchen. "'Hate' is such an unpleasant word, don't you think?" She opened the refrigerator and leaned down to access the lowest shelf.

"You're right, it is. Just tell me truthfully that you don't hate your daughter's horrible boyfriend and I'll take back what I said." Although a little grin of satisfaction threatened to manifest itself, he managed to keep his expression neutral when his grandmother abruptly stood up straight to look at him, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "Heck, I'll even admit that I was wrong and encourage Mother to stay-"

"You'll do no such thing, young man," Mrs. Briefs interrupted irritably. She huffed in frustration when he crossed his arms and raised one heavy eyebrow in response. "All right, I hate him too. Now are you happy?" She plunked a large plastic container down onto the counter and shut the refrigerator with more force than necessary.

Geta went over to his beloved grandmother and put his arms around her in a gentle hug. "Gram, I wasn't trying to be right, but I assure you that agreeing with me doesn't make you a bad person," he soothed.

She looked up at him. "It doesn't?" she asked worriedly.

He smiled down at her. "Gram, Gram. You're always trying to see the good in everyone, but sorry, this one's a lost cause. This being the case, what's to love about the man?" He grinned when she giggled in response.

"Oh, Geta. You're such a dear, sweet young man," Mrs. Briefs informed him. "You always know just how to make this old lady smile."

"You're not that old, Gram. And I try my best," Geta assured her.

The kitchen door opened and Vegeta strolled in, his eyebrow taking a turn to rise. "What's with all the lovey-dovey crap?" he asked, opening the container and removing a piece of chicken.

"You'll stop that right now if you know what's good for you, young man," Mrs. Briefs threatened, stepping forward and waggling a finger at him as she spoke.

"Yes, Mommy," Vegeta responded, not seeming remorseful in the slightest.

"All right, then." Mrs. Briefs moved her chicken out of harm's way and got out a knife and cutting board. "I thought we'd have chicken pot pie for dinner."

Vegeta's brow creased in contemplation. "I don't think I've ever had that," he responded slowly. "Is it literally a pie prepared in a pot?"

"No, not exactly, but it's a deep dish pie with chicken, vegetables and gravy in it rather than fruit," Geta told him, amused by his father's sudden interest.

Mrs. Briefs giggled. The dear boy _did _very muchlike pie. "Seems like a 'yes' vote from your father, Geta," she commented.

"Could you use some help cutting up vegetables, Gram?" Geta offered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Mrs. Briefs responded.

"Father, would you mind grabbing the sack of potatoes off of the shelf please?" Geta requested as he too got out a knife and cutting board.

"I hate potatoes," Vegeta growled as he put them on the counter, earning himself a chuckle from his son and a peal of giggles from his son's grandmother. He smirked at the remembrance of Mrs. Briefs imitating Hiroshi's dislike of potatoes.

"Vegeta, you're so silly," Mrs. Briefs informed him.

Vegeta shrugged and poured himself his own cup of coffee. "I call 'em like I see 'em," he responded casually, lowering himself down into a chair.

The kitchen door opened and Anya strolled in, a child in each arm. "There you two are. Pops, Bulma left so could you take VJ for me?"

Vegeta set down his coffee and accepted his son. "What do you mean Bulma left? Did she go to her lab?"

Mrs. Briefs and Geta exchanged an uncomfortable look. "Mother went out to dinner with Hiroshi, Father," Geta told him quietly.

There was a long pause. Once again her contemptible boyfriend was more important than everyone and everything else. After everything that had happened that day, Vegeta just couldn't take any more. "I see," he responded, unconsciously repeating Mrs. Briefs' own response. No one said anything as he got up and settled his son in his high chair.

"Pops?" Anya ventured as her now sullen father-in-law headed for the kitchen door.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me," Vegeta responded darkly. He needed to blow off some steam and knew that if he didn't get out of there, he might do something he'd regret his family seeing.

"Da-ee?"

Vegeta stopped and went over to the two children. "I'll be back soon. Be good while I'm out, okay?"

Little Vegeta nodded solemnly, despite being able to see that something had made his grandpa sad. "Okay, Ganpa," he whispered.

"Dear, let me get you a capsule car," Mrs. Briefs offered before Vegeta could leave.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, that's all right."

"But Vegeta, it's so cold out and snowing too," Mrs. Briefs objected. He couldn't fly, do his teleporting trick, or even use his ki to stay warm. "I can't just let you go out like this."

"I'll be fine, Bunny. I'll wear a coat and the walk will do me some good," Vegeta assured the worried-looking woman.

Anya sighed as they watched the kitchen door swing shut. "This can't be good at all," she mused. "If he isn't back in a couple hours you should go find him," she advised her husband.

Geta nodded. "I hope it doesn't come to that. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

* * *

Loud laughter and cheers filled the bar as Vegeta downed still another shot without a physical reaction of any kind. He smirked as his current drinking opponent promptly passed out and slid to the floor with a thud. "Weaklin' number three," he announced in a loud voice, nudging the unconscious man in the ribs with his toe. He stood up, only to sway a little unsteadily on his feet.

"C'mon tough guy. Let's dance all that booze off," a pretty young woman suggested, taking him by the arm and coaxing him toward the dance floor. She smiled broadly at him. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself? You're unlike any other man I've ever met, so secretive and mysterious." If she played her cards right, maybe he'd finally let her take him home.

"Yup, I'm jus' an inneresting guy. I'm the life a parties I never attended." Vegeta grabbed a beer from a passing server's tray and held it up. "Shtay thirsty, my friends," he droned, earning himself more laughter from those nearby.

Vegeta grinned at their reaction to his imitation of what he had at first considered to be a completely stupid beer commercial. _This _was why he continued to frequent this bar and a couple other favorite establishments. The regulars appreciated him. They didn't treat him with contempt or disdain. They made him feel welcome.

Besides, the liquor made it all go away, at least for a while.

* * *

"Father!" Geta exclaimed as he appeared on the darkened street beside his father. "You had us really worried."

Vegeta staggered a few more steps. He hadn't been this wasted in a while, and had figured hey, why not? After the stupid bastard had blown off their plans, it wasn't as though he'd had anything better to do that evening. "Pssht, you din't hafta worry 'bout me, Shun," he slurred, shooing the notion away with a sloppy wave of dismissal. "'m fine, shee?"

Geta sighed. His father's speech was distorted and he couldn't even walk in a straight line. "You don't look fine to me, Father," he contradicted. "Let's get you home-"

"No!" Vegeta shouted, jerking away from his son. "I don' wanna go back ta _her _housh," he retorted contemptuously.

Sympathy stabbed through Geta's heart. Unfortunately, he could easily see how his father would feel that way. "Father, everyone has already gone to bed, okay? But Anya couldn't get to sleep because she was so worried about you." He laid a hand on Vegeta's shoulder. "Let's go home and sleep it off, shall we?" :I'm bringing him home, An.:

Before he could manage a response, Vegeta found himself in the den, where a worried looking Anya sat curled up with a favorite afghan Bunny had crocheted. She leapt up from the couch when they appeared. "Pops!"

* * *

Bulma sighed and got out of bed. She slipped on her robe and trudged out of her room. Sleep was evading her as well, so she decided that perhaps a mug of warm milk might help. She frowned, remembering what she'd been told earlier. Vegeta had become sullen and visibly upset when told of her departure with Hiroshi, and had left the grounds alone on foot. She had no idea where he'd gone, and the fact that he still hadn't returned several hours later bothered her greatly.

The lights were on in the den and she could hear voices, so she decided to peek in and see who else couldn't sleep.

"Geta? What's going on?"

Anya and Geta exchanged an uneasy look. "Well, Father's home now so we're all going to hit the sack. Nothing to worry about. Good night, Mother," Geta responded as casually as possible, taking a step forward.

Bulma frowned. "But it smells like..." She trailed off when she looked past her son.

What she saw completely unnerved her.

Vegeta was passed out on the recliner and fairly reeked of cigarettes and booze. His hair and clothes were damp, as if he'd been out in the snow for a while. While it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, Bulma couldn't keep from asking.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, too shocked to say anything else.

Anya stepped forward as well, unshed tears welling in her eyes. "Bulma, please," she pleaded. "Pops wouldn't want you to see him like this." She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. "It would only make things worse if he knew."

Bulma caught herself staring at Vegeta and snapped out of it. She knew he was smoking and that he had a drink now and then, but she'd had no idea that he would drink enough to get drunk, let alone enough to pass out. Why had she never noticed him inebriated before this?

It was then that the answer well and truly hit her- Vegeta typically made himself scarce when Hiroshi came around and his presence wasn't requested, and she'd been spending a lot of her time away from work with Hiroshi. A wave of guilt washed over her when she realized that she hardly ever saw Vegeta anymore, and the last time she'd spent any length of time with him, they'd had quite an ugly argument about Hiroshi. Was this typical behavior when he left? "Has this happened before?" she heard herself asking in a shaky voice.

Anya and Geta exchanged another uneasy look. "Mother, Anya's right," he began slowly. "Father really wouldn't want you to-"

"Just answer the question, please," Bulma interrupted, seeing her son was attempting to dodge the question.

Geta sighed and wouldn't meet her gaze. What was he supposed to say? His mother wasn't supposed to have walked in on this either.

Bulma took his silence as confirmation of her question. She let out a long sigh. "But why would he-"

This time it was Geta who interrupted his mother. "I know you aren't stupid, Mother," he said curtly, "so don't even go there. Can't you see that Father is suffering? Unfortunately, this is his way of dealing with it."

Bulma realized that she was gaping and closed her mouth. "This is his way of dealing with it? This happens all the time?" she asked in a small voice.

Before Geta could respond, Vegeta shifted on the recliner and let out a low groan. Geta waved his mother toward the door.

:You have to go. Now,: he added when she appeared to be hesitating. He shot a glance to his wife, who immediately got the hint.

"Come on, Bulma," she whispered, herding her mother-in-law from the room before Vegeta realized that she was there.

Geta held in a sigh and helped his father to his feet. "All right, Father. Let's get you to bed," he murmured, coaxing him out of the room and up the stairs.

Vegeta stopped suddenly as they reached his room. He shook his head as Geta reached for the knob. "No."

"Father? What's wrong? Oh..." He trailed off as Vegeta made a beeline for the bathroom.

* * *

Bulma rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. She could hear what was going on across the hall even with the door closed. "It isn't my fault. He did this to himself," she whispered, unable to shake the guilt chastising her in the back of her mind.

_This is your fault. He did this to himself because of you._

She rolled back over. "Shut up, shut up, shut_ up_!" she growled in return, but it was no use. Her annoying conscience was right. He would never have engaged in such self-destructive behavior before their breakup.

During her future self's visit, a lot had been going through her mind, and knew she'd be doing a lot of thinking on more than the subject of this killer virus.

Vegeta had _cried_.

He'd been so upset by whatever B had told him that he'd actually broken down and cried, something she had never imagined him doing. She remembered the argument she'd had with her mother at the dinner table after Vegeta had returned. Could her mother have actually been obliquely confirming that he really _had _been crying on her shoulder? And now he was getting seriously drunk. She didn't know what to think, what to do even less so. She knew that she had to talk to him.

Bulma got out of the bed again and entered her bathroom, wincing as the sudden bright light assailed her vision. Removing a bottle of sleeping pills, she took two and got back into bed, morbid thoughts of guilt- and exactly what that guilt meant- running through her mind.

* * *

"Good morning, Shatsu."

Dr. Briefs smiled at the young man approaching him, rolled up plans tucked under one arm. "Well, good morning to you as well, Vegeta," he responded in greeting. "You look tired. Didn't you sleep well again last night?"

Fortunately for Vegeta he was continually getting better at dealing with a hangover; eyedrops, a cool shower, coffee, and the ruse that he hadn't slept well pulled the wool snugly over the eyes of most people. He felt guilty about deceiving Dr. Briefs, but he didn't want the older man to know about this particular problem. "No, not really. But don't worry about it. I'll get some extra sleep tonight. Meanwhile, I have something special for you." He indicated the blueprints in his possession.

Dr. Briefs brightened at the prospect of seeing what Vegeta had come up with. "Wonderful, my boy. Let's look at them over here." He cleared a few things from a large table and beckoned Vegeta over.

"Sure." Vegeta rolled out the oversized papers onto the desk and stepped back so the doctor could look at them, a little smile escaping when he lost no time in doing so.

"Oh, goodness..." Dr. Briefs murmured as he poured over the marked up blueprints. "Oh, my. I'm glad I had you look over these plans." There were quite a few changes that made a lot of sense, as well as some suggestions that sounded feasible too.

"Bulma went over them as well, so I can't take all of the credit," Vegeta told him. "She already ordered the work to start so Capsule Corp's employees could begin erecting the scaffolding before the contractor arrives to begin the actual construction. Doing it in-house will save quite a bit of money, and we have the manpower and the necessary equipment to do it."

"That's wonderful," Dr. Briefs responded, a measure of pride coming through in his voice. Now more than ever he was glad he'd directly involved the young man in the project.

"Want to go take a look? I think Bulma is already out there," Vegeta suggested.

"Let's go," Dr. Briefs agreed, grabbing a coat from a hook next to his desk.

The two men walked in companionable silence as they made their way over to the work site. "Yes, she's already here," Vegeta noted.

Dr. Briefs nodded and waved at his daughter. "Looks like they've made quite a bit of progress already," he commented.

Vegeta nodded. "They should have everything set up by the time the final plans are drawn up." He frowned. "Where's the foreman?" Albeit separately, he and Bulma had spoken at length with the man in question about the proposed changes, which had been favorably received.

Bulma stepped over to them, shivering from the cool late winter day. "He went back inside for a minute to answer a call from one of the suppliers," she told them. "It shouldn't be long. I told the crew they could take a break until he gets back."

Leaving them to their conversation, Dr. Briefs ventured over to the far side of the compound, where not much progress had been made. In his mind's eye, he could see where the new GR would be installed as he examined the print he'd brought with him. So engrossed was he in his observations that he failed to notice what was going on above him.

* * *

"I think it was a good idea to add a touchpad to this door here to-" A loud creaking noise interrupted Bulma mid sentence as she and Vegeta examined the blueprints together. They looked up toward the source of the noise, only to watch in horror as the scaffolding began to weaken in one area.

"That's going to collapse," Vegeta told her in no uncertain terms.

"Everyone get away," Bulma shouted. "It's coming down!"

The foreman ran up beside them, huffing from his exertion to get there as quickly as possible. "What happened?" he gasped.

"Jinsei tried to make a weld by himself," one employee reported, indicating a guilty looking fellow employee.

"I thought you would be happy if I got it done before you returned," Jinsei said sheepishly.

The foreman frowned. "You know you're not supposed to work alone, let alone unsupervised," he chastised. "What if someone had gotten injured?"

As if in response to his question, Bulma let out a gasp. "Oh no, Daddy!" she exclaimed. Her preoccupied father obviously didn't realize what was happening above him, and his failing hearing prevented him from acknowledging Bulma's cries.

Vegeta's eyes widened. He could make it there in time if he teleported or even flew, but he'd been ordered against either action. He tried his hand at shouting as he ran for the older man. "Shatsu!"

"What?" Dr. Briefs turned to see the scaffolding heave above him and stopped dead in his tracks, caught as still as the proverbial deer in the headlights. He slipped on a patch of ice, causing his bad knee to give out on him and sending him to the ground.

"Daddy!" Bulma screamed, running after Vegeta.

"Shatsu!" Vegeta got a sick feeling in his belly that he'd never make it in time as the scaffolding buckled further. But he had to try. "Shatsu!"

The scaffolding finally gave out and came crashing to the ground, causing Bulma to scream in agony. "No!"

_"Dad!"_ To hell with the damn virus. There was only one thing for Vegeta to do, and he placed two fingers to his forehead, arriving just in time to snatch the older man out of harm's way, catching the brunt of the wreckage with his shoulder and wincing as his arm popped out of its socket.

Bulma ran up beside them, several other employees close behind. "Oh, Kami! Daddy!" She dropped to her knees beside the dazed scientist and the Saiyan huddled protectively over him.

Vegeta dragged the two of them out from beneath a piece of scaffolding. "Shatsu, are you all right?" he exclaimed anxiously, ignoring the screaming pain in his shoulder. "Shatsu!"

The doctor looked at him, a dazed look on his face. "Vegeta? What happened?"

Vegeta sighed in relief. "Can you stand?"

"I... I don't know," Dr. Briefs mumbled. "My knee..."

"I'll take you inside," Vegeta told him. He turned to Bulma, his demeanor instantly changing. "Meanwhile, terminate him," he snapped irritably, pointing to the now terrified guilty employee. Many of them had seen Vegeta's temper flare in the past for one reason or another, and no one envied Jinsei's position.

"Vegeta, can't we worry about that later?" Bulma told him nervously. She knew that Vegeta had grown fond of her father and couldn't help but worry how she'd keep the angry Saiyan in line.

"Terminate him," Vegeta repeated, his voice allowing no opposition, "or I will."

Bulma kept her reaction in check, although she had no doubt that injured or not, he was serious about the insinuated alternate meaning of the word. He was being extremely protective of her father. "I'll take care of it, Vegeta. Jinsei, you ignored my directions, and my father was nearly killed because of it. Go collect your things and meet me in Gai's office. Benito will escort you." She indicated a security guard who had joined them.

Jinsei's grief over the situation was evident. "Dr. Briefs, I'm very sorry for what happened," he apologized. "I never meant for anyone to be harmed." He left, the guard beside him.

* * *

"You can go in now," the doctor announced as he left the room.

Vegeta nodded and entered the small recovery room in the medical lab. "How are you doing?" he asked the man laying in the bed as he sat down in the nearby chair.

Dr. Briefs shifted uncomfortably. "I twisted my knee pretty badly. Other than that, I'm fine, thanks to you," he finished in a soft voice. "Thank you."

Vegeta waved that off with his free hand, as one arm was in a sling; the regen tank had not been repaired since his unfortunate incident on Gerdia. "Of course. And don't go saying you feel badly about my shoulder," he continued, seeing that the doctor had a rather guilty look on his face. "It will heal in no time at all. You should concern yourself with your injured leg."

The doctor gave him a shaky smile. "All right, then." He paused. "I'm glad you're here, Son," he murmured quietly.

Vegeta nodded. "I'm glad I was able to be of assistance."

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

Vegeta's face softened as he realized what the doctor did mean. "You should get some rest," he responded, rising from his chair. "I'll leave you now." He'd been the last one to see Dr. Briefs and thought the older man looked tired.

Dr. Briefs watched Vegeta leave, feeling good about the conversation they'd had. He hadn't missed the expression on the younger man's face, just as he hadn't missed what he'd shouted just before teleporting.

Dad.

* * *

"Hey."

Vegeta looked up from the crossword puzzle he was working. "Hey."

Bulma sat down beside him on the couch. "I just wanted to thank you for saving Daddy today," she said quietly. "He would have been killed for sure if you hadn't stepped in."

Vegeta set down his puzzle. "You don't have to thank me," he told her. "I couldn't allow harm to come to him, especially since he has been so kind to me, all things considered."

Bulma nodded; what could she say to that? She hesitated briefly before reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. "Do you need something for pain?"

Vegeta gave her a look that clearly meant she knew better than to ask him that. "Pain killer, bah. You should concern yourself with your father's comfort, not mine."

Bulma blinked back the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

Vegeta was tempted to ask her what she had indeed meant by all of the altercations they'd had but fought down the urge and nodded. "Me, too."

After a long mutual silence, Bulma got up from the couch since the lack of conversation in the room had become rather uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I just wanted to express my gratitude."

Vegeta nodded again, but said nothing. He watched with sudden interest as she seemed to be warring over something in her mind. "What is it?"

Bulma drew in a deep breath, wondering whether she should be opening this particular can of worms with a man who prided himself in not displaying what he considered to be private emotions, especially since she had been a witness to his loss of control over them concerning whatever her future self had told him. He most likely figured that she was aware of it, given the way she had seen him leaving the kitchen with their son. If only she could have been the proverbial "fly on the wall" during that particular conversation. "Dad. You called my father 'Dad' today, and I wondered why," she told him.

Vegeta looked at her with confusion. "No, I didn't..."

She watched his face change as he realized that yes, he had indeed done as he'd just denied. Suddenly he scowled and got up from the couch.

"I won't apologize for what I said because I have nothing to be sorry for," he snapped angrily. "Your thoughts are no doubt debating between how _convenient _it was that I was there to save your father and how _presumptuous _I am to have said such a thing. Too bad for you that you're annoyed by that." He grabbed his magazine and stormed for the door.

Bulma stared at him in shock. "Vegeta, no! That's not what I meant at all," she objected, hurrying after him and reaching out to take his arm.

Vegeta wrenched away from her. "Hmph. Why don't you go waste some more time with your perfect little boyfriend, since he's obviously more important than anything else?" he snapped.

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Why you arrogant son of a bitch!" she shouted. "I come here to make sure you're all right and thank you for what you did for Daddy, and you have the audacity to say something so ugly to me? How dare you?"

"How dare _you?_" Vegeta spat back. "As I mentioned previously to you, your father has been nothing but kind and considerate to me, and you have to get up on your high horse and toss what I inadvertently said back in my face as though it were something abhorrent to you. I know you no longer care how I feel about what used to be between us and how I destroyed the only thing that really mattered in my life, but that doesn't give you the right to mock my interactions with everyone else, poking your nose into that which is none of your business."

It suddenly occurred to Bulma that he might actually see her father in a father figure way, and tears sprang to her eyes. "Vegeta, I'm sorry for what I said just now," she whispered. "I wasn't upset that you called my father 'Dad', honestly. I just didn't know that you felt that way about him, so I guess I was a little surprised, that's all." She sniffled and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He sighed. "Stop crying, Bulma. I shouldn't have said what I did either. I'm sorry too, okay?" He frowned when she began mopping at her face. How could he continue to be so weak? But it was his attempt to avoid appearing weak that had hurt her. Why was everything he did backfiring on him?

She looked at him with sorrowful blue eyes that made his heart wrench. "Can we just start over, please?"

He nodded. "I'd like that."

She managed a shaky little smile and accepted a tissue from the box he held out to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Bulma," he responded.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knock at the den's door. Momentarily, Mrs. Briefs came in. "Bulma, Hiroshi is here," she said hesitantly, having waited a bit after the shouting stopped to interrupt them.

"Thanks Mom. Please tell him I'll be there in a minute." Bulma turned back to Vegeta after her mother had left. "I do care," she whispered, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before rushing from the room.

This argument had ended eerily similar to the last one, only the one making assurances that they did care had been reversed. Vegeta sighed and sank back down onto the couch, B's words running through his mind.

_If you're serious about this, and I know you are, you need to find the way on your own. You already know one thing for sure that you need to do. You know what it is that she needs from you._

He knew exactly what B had been referring to. He just had to find the right opportunity and summon up the strength to do it.

_But she isn't your mate any longer,_ his mind reminded him. _It is disgraceful to pursue the affections of another man's mate._ And what if she didn't accept his sentiments, instead choosing her boyfriend over him?

_Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta._

Vegeta left the den and headed for the nursery to check on his son, his demeanor exuding confidence as he went. Yes, he would have self-respect. He would do what was needed to win back Bulma's love. He would be an honorable and considerate mate to her, cherishing her as she deserved.

He would stand proud and tall.


	21. Chapter 21

AN: You will see another first in this chapter. I'm not going to hint at what it is this time, since I'm sure that you're all sharp enough to notice it once you read it.

Aside from that, more big changes are happening. Read on, and make sure to review when you're done. Seriously. Review! I always said I'd never demand reviews and I won't, but if you're enjoying this story, think about this point of view. I have _lots _of things I could (and should) be doing instead of this during my lunch hour. Convince me to do otherwise.

For those of you who wanted more Bulma and Vegeta interaction, here you go. Drink it up.

Per my husband's suggestion, in order to avoid confusion I am creating a list of named original characters that you have previously seen below. I am not including family members. If you don't know them by now, tsk. Start re-reading now.

Rita: the friendly waitress at Buffalo Bob's (where Vegeta ate the three steaks).

Yoshi: the little brat from the grocery store parking lot.

Mr. Imano: the butcher Bulma and Vegeta visited.

Ugon: Vegeta's horrid fellow soldier who became his superior officer while working for Frieza.

Tsukiko: Dr. Briefs' personal assistant.

Shirori: Capsule Corp employee (the one who wears too much perfume).

Chieko: Capsule Corp employee (works with Shiori).

Natsue Yamamoto: Bulma's longtime friend and obstetrician.

Nuiko Abe: Bulma's personal assistant.

Hina: Human Resources Assistant at Capsule Corp.

Gai Tottori: rude Human Resources Director at Capsule Corp.

Tsumugi and Orika: flirtatious Capsule Corp R&D employees who hopped in Vegeta's Jacuzzi and made lewd comments at Anya and Geta's wedding.

Akimitsu: works in Financial Services at Capsule Corp.

Takane: receptionist at Natsue's office.

Chomei: the little boy in Natsue's waiting room, son of a very pregnant "Mama".

Dr. Ueda: a colleague of Dr. Briefs and Bulma. Sold some of Vegeta's Wethion stone for him.

Dr. Morita: another colleague of Dr. Briefs and Bulma.

Junko Inoue: very stupid woman at scientists' banquet.

Kazue: Bulma's friend who sent Bulma an invitation to her wedding.

Hiroshi Takashita: (okay, if you don't know who this is, stop reading now) Bulma's rude, conceited, horrific waste of human genetics boyfriend. Unfortunately tall, handsome, and highly successful in the business world.

Yumemi: the woman (probably one of many) who Hiroshi on Bulma cheated with.

Rikae: the woman at the café who flirted with Vegeta and slipped him her phone number.

Etsuko: the family's occasional babysitter.

Yae: Capsule Corp employee who works in Payroll.

Hideko: Capsule Corp employee.

Soba: the man that Goku pops in on Yardrat.

King Herrón and Queen Evalina: Anya's parents, the king and queen of planet Gerdia.

Marius: King Herrón's personal servant.

Yajeel: the royal bodyguard.

Dotelli: Princess Anyakita's nanny.

Leeta: the little Gerdian girl who got bullied outside the palace.

Jankar: head pastry chef at the palace in Gerdia.

Pallia: one of King Herrón's masseuses.

Miwa: Capsule Corp employee who works in Bulma's office with Nuiko.

Mr. Mochizuki and Mr. Ohayashi: Energy Technologies representatives who Vegeta signed the big deal with.

B: future Bulma.

Jinsei: Capsule Corp employee who almost made a fatal construction error.

Benito: one of the Capsule Corps security guards.

Whew... I think that's everyone. I'll update this list periodically. Let me know if I missed anyone. :)

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me, as he always faithfully does.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

"Good morning, everyone." Vegeta sat down at the table, where Mrs. Briefs was setting up breakfast.

He was met with a smattering of greetings in return.

"Good morning, Dear!"

"Hey Pops."

"Morning Father."

"Good morning! Glad you decided to join us, my boy." Dr. Briefs was unaware of what exactly had transpired between his daughter and the young man seated beside him, but it had evidently been bad enough that he'd kept himself scarce while Bulma was around. He'd shown up for breakfast today, and not coincidental in the least was the fact that Bulma was currently out of town on work related business. The doctor tucked his newspaper away as his wife sat down, redirecting his thoughts to the issue at hand. "I know I'm jumping right to it, but I have a favor to ask of you, if you can spare some time."

Vegeta put a few thick slices of ham on his plate and passed the dish on. "Of course. What is it you need?"

Dr. Briefs hesitated before speaking. "Well, there are a few loose strings to tie up with Energy Technologies. Meetings, some paperwork, things like that. Normally Bulma would handle it, but she's at that conference I was supposed to go to, and well, to be frank you are much more acquainted with her contract than I am..." He trailed off.

Vegeta looked at the older man with surprise. Sure, he had employee status now and he _had _helped out with Bulma's contract, but he would never have expected the likes of this. Dr. Briefs trusted him that much with such an important contract?

"Of course, Son. There's no one else I'd rather have at my side in Bulma's stead," Dr. Briefs said confidently.

Vegeta hadn't realized that he'd voiced his thoughts. "All right," he agreed. "I'd be happy to go for you, especially since you need to keep off your knee as much as possible," he pointed out, making the last bit of his statement in a no-nonsense tone. Vegeta knew quite well where Bulma got her stubbornness from.

Dr. Briefs looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Thank you, Vegeta."

"I can come in if you need any help in the office with things like typing and filing, Pops," Anya offered.

"That would be very helpful," Vegeta told her gratefully. It would have been rather awkward if something had been given to him that he was unable to read.

"Wonderful! I'll contact Bulma and tell her not to worry about it." Dr. Briefs looked and sounded completely at ease now that things were in order.

* * *

"I'll have to find a place where you can set up. For now, feel free to use my office. I'm always out and about anyway." Dr. Briefs lowered himself down onto his chair and propped his crutches against the edge of his desk. "All right now." He picked up a thick file. "A copy of the contract and a flash drive containing the final plans are in here, among other things. Energy Technologies will be in today very shortly to pick up the plans. They said we could just hold onto the plans for now since they wanted to come in and discuss a few details."

Vegeta took the file from him. How could he deny this man such a simple task after he'd always treated him so favorably? "Not a problem. I'm happy to be of assistance for as long as you need me."

"Thank you again, Vegeta. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you." Again he paused. "My health has been steadily going downhill and I had planned on retiring in the next year or so, but we've had so many conferences lately along with this new contract, so I just don't know how I'll be able to," he confided. "Add to that the fact that we have a couple other potential deals in the works, and I certainly can't expect Bulma to be able to handle everything once I'm out of the picture."

Vegeta contemplated this. "Will you need to hire another executive?"

Dr. Briefs nodded. "I'll probably have to hire an AVP for Bulma to train to take over her job when she becomes President."

Vegeta cocked his head, unknowingly reminiscent of the motion Goku often made when contemplating something he wasn't familiar with. "AVP?"

"Assistant Vice President, sorry. We'd phased them out a while ago, but I think we'll really need another body in here soon," Dr. Briefs explained.

"Ah. Well, as I told you previously, until you hire the help needed I am happy to offer my assistance," Vegeta reminded him.

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "I suppose you'll need something else to do now that you can't train, hmm? While I certainly feel that such dedicated attention as you've shown my grandchildren is both noteworthy and commendable, you should do something else now and then other than change dirty diapers all day," he said pointedly. "Bunny was complaining about how she never gets to watch them any more."

Vegeta laughed at that. While he didn't mind watching the children, the man did have a point. "I guess so." When the doctor reached for his crutches, he helped him to his feet.

"Thank you again, Vegeta, so very much. I don't think I have the energy to do much else than be the proverbial fly on the wall today," Dr. Briefs said a little glumly.

"Don't you worry about that," Vegeta assured him. "I've got it all under control. You can always jump in if things get hairy."

Now it was the doctor's turn to laugh. It was so amusing when Vegeta used Earth expressions like the one he had. "Yes indeed."

The phone's intercom sounded and Dr. Briefs pressed a button to answer it. "Yes, Tsukiko?"

"Energy Technologies is here, Sir. I've escorted them to Bulma's conference room," Tsukiko's voice came over the intercom.

"Thank you. We'll be there shortly." Dr. Briefs pressed the button again to release the call before turning to the Saiyan beside him. "All right, my boy. Let's go on in there and take care of business, shall we?"

* * *

Dr. Briefs found himself suitably impressed as the members of the meeting filed out of the conference room and into its adjoining office. Vegeta had fairly astonished him with his tactics and easy going yet professional communication style, and had swiftly charmed the entire group attending the meeting regardless of which company they represented. The younger man had turned to him for his opinion on one occasion during the meeting, at which point the doctor had simply waved off the question and told him his judgment was completely and implicitly trusted on the issue. Vegeta had taken the decision seriously and, while he said he would discuss the outcome of the meeting with Bulma and get back with them on one item in particular, had taken the bull by the horns full force after that.

It was a crying shame that the boy wasn't involved in more things of the business aspect at Capsule Corp. He'd have to find a way to keep him around and involved, as long as Vegeta was agreeable to it. Then again, the boy _had _indicated his willingness to be of assistance as long as needed.

Hmmm...

"So, how do you like them apples?" Vegeta's voice interrupted his thoughts as he re-entered the conference room. "Do you think that Bulma will be pleased?"

Dr. Briefs chuckled. Yes, Vegeta was definitely picking up a lot of Earth slang. "Oh, I dare say that she'll be quite pleased indeed. Fabulous presentation you gave, young man," he praised. "Perhaps I should keep you on staff here. I have a few projects that could use some fine tweaking."

Vegeta made a little don't-be-ridiculous noise but smiled and accepted the praise nonetheless. "Thank you, Shatsu."

"You're ever so welcome, Vegeta. I should be the one thanking _you _for this one." He situated his crutches appropriately and headed for the door.

As they left the conference room together, they saw Gai standing there watching everyone leaving. He snorted and rolled his eyes when one of them shook Vegeta's hand and thanked him before following the rest of the Energy Technologies staff out.

Dr. Briefs noticed but decided to again let Vegeta hold the reins on this one. "I'm a little tired so I'll head on back," he announced. "Wonderful job, Vegeta."

Vegeta nodded his thanks and gave the doctor a two-fingered wave as he left the office, aware that the older man had wanted the others to know that his efforts were appreciated and indirectly granting him a measure of respect in the eyes of his peers in the process.

Some people, however, didn't see things the same way.

Gai shook his head as the office door closed. "What a crock," he proclaimed loudly enough to gain everyone's attention. "I did my homework on you. You have absolutely _no _formal education and _no _experience, and you actually think you're qualified to lead important sales meetings?" he scoffed. "I guess you really must be wonderful after all, since it _is _how you got your foot in the door here."

Several employees cleared their throats or shifted uncomfortably. It was well known that Vegeta had a temper not to be reckoned with, and they were waiting to see what he'd do.

Vegeta just stared at his aggressor with an expression that clearly stated he wasn't sure how to take what Gai had said. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, please. Don't make yourself appear any more stupid than you already do," Gai spat sarcastically. "You were in that meeting today because you're the old coot's grandkid's father. And you were in the meeting prior because you're so wonderful at banging his daughter. Or shall I say, _were _so wonderful at banging his daughter."

"Uhm, Gai?" Nuiko spoke up. Vegeta was facing away from her, but she could see the backs of his ears turning red, quickly followed by the part of his neck not covered by his suit. She knew what Vegeta was capable of and was growing increasingly uncomfortable. "I don't think-"

"Oh, butt out, Abe. You're just her cute little assistant, after all," Gai interrupted snidely, smirking at her affronted reaction. "Looks like it doesn't take much to climb the corporate ladder around here. Bulma's pretty hot. Who wants to earn a promotion when she gets back?" He laughed heartily at the angry expression on Vegeta's face. "What's the matter, did I ruffle your feathers little man?" he mocked.

"You are treading on very thin ice," Vegeta growled in a low voice, plainly making a supreme effort to keep his cool. "I suggest that you don't ever speak of Dr. Briefs, Bulma or my son again." He crossed his arms. "If I had the authority, I'd kick your sorry carcass out of here."

Gai laughed. "I'm the Human Resources Director. _I_ do the firing here. You got one contract signed that someone else negotiated. You only wish you had any kind of authority."

"He does, because I'm giving it to him."

The two men turned to see Dr. Briefs standing behind them, looking quite perturbed. "Dr. Briefs?" Vegeta ventured, horrified by the thought that the older man must have heard the majority of the conversation. In the back of his mind he realized that he had indeed heard the door unlatch again shortly after Dr. Briefs had left the office, but he'd been so angry by Gai's words that it hadn't registered in his brain what it was that he'd heard.

Dr. Briefs shook his head, clucking his tongue. "Vegeta, you know it's Shatsu to you. I came back to retrieve something I forgot, but it appears I have amore important issue to handle right now. How would you like to use your newly appointed authority as, oh, how does AVP sound to you?" He smiled when Vegeta's eyebrow rose higher than he'd ever seen it, and leaned in. "_Much_ higher up than Human Resources Director."

Vegeta slowly turned to face Gai, a malicious smile spreading across his face. "You're _fired_," he hissed, baring his fangs menacingly. It felt good, refreshingly good to do, and even more so that Dr. Briefs respected and appreciated him enough to elevate him to such a lofty position.

Dr. Briefs nodded his approval. "You have one hour to remove yourself and your personal belongings from the premises. If you are not off of Capsule Corp property before then, I will have you escorted out. Any questions?"

Gai glared at him. "I can't believe you would favor this idiot over a loyal employee," he snarled.

"By the way, Gai, while I am under no obligation to supply you with an explanation of any kind, I would never give either an assignment or a position to someone unqualified or undeserving of it. I think you should know that Vegeta sweetened up that deal more than you can imagine, and he's done more good for Capsule Corp in less than a week than you've done in six years," Dr. Briefs informed him. "You will receive your termination papers in the mail."

Seeing that he had no supporters, Gai stormed out of the room, muttering curses as he left.

Vegeta suddenly became acutely aware of several pairs of eyes trained on him. He shot a sideways glance at Dr. Briefs and was about to speak when he heard one of the employees standing nearby spoke up.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much everyone around here hates that man," the employee said boldly.

"He was always rude and degrading to the everyone," Nuiko agreed. "I guess he picked the wrong time and place to do it today."

_And the wrong person as well,_ Dr. Briefs thought guiltily. "I had no idea," he admitted. "I'm very sorry that he harassed so many of you and for so long. Why did no one ever say anything?"

"Fear of reprisal," another employee interjected.

"At least he's out of the picture now." Dr. Briefs shook his head. "I feel terrible about all of this."

The door opened again and Miwa came in. "What just happened in here?" she asked as she tossed the mail she was carrying into the inbox on her desk. "I saw Gai leaving and he was in such a huff that he practically ran me down."

"He just got fired, and didn't take kindly to it," Nuiko told her, sounding a little smug.

Miwa turned to Dr. Briefs. "You fired him?" she asked excitedly.

"No," Dr. Briefs responded, noting the girl's pleasure at the prospect of being rid of Gai. "Vegeta did."

Miwa looked at Vegeta with confusion. "You did? But..."

"His first action as AVP," Dr. Briefs told her. "Well, it appears that not only is my problem of being short an executive taken care of, but so is where his office will be." He patted Vegeta's arm. "Would you mind grabbing the file I left in the conference room for me, Son?"

"Not at all," Vegeta responded. "I'll come back with you." He grabbed the file from the conference room and followed the older man out of the office, leaving behind several stunned employees.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath and shook his head. "Whew..."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Not exactly what you expected to happen today, hmm?"

"Not exactly, no." Vegeta gave the doctor a weak little smile. "Well, I suppose I should put a little something together for Bulma before she gets back tomorrow."

Dr. Briefs didn't miss the little note of trepidation in Vegeta's voice at the mention of Bulma's return. "Don't even worry about that, my boy. I was there, so I can put something together for you. You have more important things to concern yourself with right now."

"Oh?"

"Why, yes," Dr. Briefs assured him as they entered what had at one time been Gai's office. "I'm sure you'll want new furnishings for your office so you'll need to pick them out. Oh, and I think that you'll need some more attire suitable for the office. It wouldn't do to have you wearing the same thing every day."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't," Vegeta murmured. His head was fairly swimming with everything that had just happened.

Momentarily Gai came out of his private office. He scowled at Vegeta. "Here to escort me out?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, he's here to decide what furniture he wants until I can get him a better office," Dr. Briefs interjected.

Vegeta found himself surprised; this office was one of the bigger ones in the building. He wasn't the only one.

"You've got to be joking," Gai spat.

"Not at all. I assure you that I am quite serious. You'll need a bigger private office, don't you think, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs commented as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

"Oh, definitely." Vegeta decided that this was not the time to be wishy-washy. He wanted to pour as much salt in the wound as possible. "I think a conference room would be ideal as well. Something similar to Bulma's office. After all, I'll probably be heading up many more meetings which I know nothing about."

Dr. Briefs laughed and smacked Vegeta on the arm. "You're all right, Son, you're all right. In fact, you're old coot approved." He paused. "Gai, is there something you need help packing?"

Gai scowled. "No."

"Then chop, chop," Vegeta said, clapping his hands in emphasis. "Time's awasting, and I need to redecorate my office."

Gai grabbed the rest of his personal items and stormed for the door.

"Don't forget to leave your keys," Dr. Briefs called after him. "I'll need to give Vegeta your set."

Gai threw his keys on the floor and called Vegeta a very unsatisfactory name before slamming the door behind him.

"Tsk. My, what an attitude."

"Indeed. And I assure you, I've never even _considered _doing that to my mother."

"Trust me, I didn't assume anything else. You really don't seem the type."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"By the way, would you mind serving as Human Resources Director until I can hire a new one? After all, you did fire him and take over his office."

A long pause. "I see your point."

* * *

Bulma entered the break room, a smile on her face when she saw Vegeta was there getting coffee. Dr. Briefs had told her about his work the day prior and she had been pleasantly surprised that he had agreed to help out with Energy Technologies again. She'd even sought Vegeta out and thanked him, putting him more at ease around her. Since her attitude had improved and he would be working as her subordinate- something that didn't exactly thrill him given their history- Vegeta had decided to let the last ugly incident between them slide, making interaction between them much more comfortable.

"Did you hear that the Human Resources Director got fired yesterday?" Bulma asked excitedly. "I'm glad, because he was a real jerk. If I would have had a solid reason to, I would have canned him myself." She picked up her coffee and threw the stir she'd used in the trash.

Evidently her father hadn't told her the whole story, probably figuring that Vegeta should tell her personally. "I didn't care much for him myself when he took care of my hire on paperwork. And yes, I saw the whole thing. The look on his face was priceless, I must say." Vegeta proceeded to pour large amounts of cream and sugar into his coffee.

"You were there? I always seem to be out of the office at the wrong time," Bulma complained. "How'd it happen?"

"The guy mouthed off to another employee he deemed beneath him and made some really out of line comments about his family, not knowing that your father was in earshot," Vegeta explained. He took a sip and grimaced. "Ugh. Needs more sugar."

"Let me guess. Daddy decided he'd had enough of the jerk and fired him on the spot," Bulma supplied in a triumphant voice. She noticed Vegeta dumping more sugar into his mug. "Want a little coffee with your sugar there?" she quipped.

"Just the way I like it, you know that," Vegeta responded. "But you're only partially correct. He had the new AVP do it."

Bulma eyed him skeptically. "We have an AVP now? Wow, somebody must've really pulled something huge off. Why wouldn't I have been in the loop on something like that?" she mused, not even considering the possibility that her father would appoint Vegeta of all people, let alone a newly hired employee, to such a high station in the company. "I thought we phased AVPs out, and now we're promoting new ones. Oh, well. Looks like I've got a new grunt to break in," she joked, chuckling evil villain style and cracking her knuckles. "Who is it?"

Before he could say anything, a few more employees strolled into the break room. "Hey, Vegeta!" one of them who Vegeta recognized as Akimitsu from Financial Services greeted him. "I heard the news, good for you!" he said with a thumb up. "That's huge, man."

"Thank you," Vegeta answered, shaking Akimitsu's hand politely.

Bulma smiled, pleased that Vegeta's efforts with the Energy Technologies contract were being recognized. "Isn't it, great?" she agreed. "Vegeta's a tough negotiator."

Akimitsu gave her an odd look; the only choice that Vegeta had given Gai was to leave the property within the hour or be escorted out. "Tough negotiator- oh! You're talking about the Mochizuki deal. That's right, congratulations on that, too."

"Yeah, congratulations, Mr. Vegeta," another employee piped up. "Sorry to run so quickly, but we've got to get moving. We've got a conference call in three minutes."

Vegeta nodded to them with a little two fingered wave as they left and took another sip of his coffee. "Now it's too cold," he grumbled. Bulma couldn't help but giggle as he put it in the microwave and tugged at his collar. "I hate ties."

"And I hate pantyhose. Aren't we a bright little ray of sunshine today?" she joked, earning a sideways glance from the Saiyan leaning back against the countertop the microwave sat on.

"After the last two days, he ought to be," a young woman Bulma recognized as Rioko from shipping and receiving commented as she entered the break room. "I thought I heard your voice, Mr. Vegeta. Your furniture is here and it's all set up. It looks great, by the way. Just sign for me and I'll send the delivery people on their way."

_They gave Vegeta an office already? Well, it _is_ a big deal he helped close. Wait a minute, what am I thinking? He's here today as a courtesy to wrap up the deal, not to work behind a desk! And why is everyone calling him "Mr." Vegeta?_ A multitude of confused thoughts raced through Bulma's brain as she attempted to figure out what was going on.

"Thanks." Vegeta took the clipboard she held out and signed where she pointed. "That was quick."

"Yes, well, you'll soon discover that when Capsule Corp speaks, the world listens. Thank you!" she said as she took the clipboard back. "Oh, and congratulations on AVP!" She gave him a bright smile and left, sneaking what she thought was a surreptitious little glance at him as she went through the door.

Vegeta turned back to the microwave to retrieve his coffee without looking at the flabbergasted woman standing behind him. "Ah! Too hot."

Bulma stared at him with wide-eyed shock. "You mean... are you saying...?"

"Yes, Bulma. I'm your grunt." He sighed. "Look, I didn't ask for this, but seeing as I can't train, I suppose I would have had to find something productive to do, anyway." He shrugged. "Your father has done more for me than I could have ever expected him to do. How could I turn him down when he asked me to do something for him? Besides, it feels good not to be so useless for once around here." He blew on his coffee and took another gulp of it.

"Vegeta, you're not-"

"We'd better get going. Your father isn't paying me to stand around and drink coffee," he interrupted. Vegeta hadn't wanted a salary at all, insisting that the Briefs already did far more for him than he could ever need, but Dr. Briefs had insisted right back that he couldn't have him working without a salary, especially considering the position he held. "Kami knows I've already got plenty to do. Good thing I have temporary help until I can get an assistant. She doesn't type very fast, but she's cute." He grinned at her blank look. "Come on, I'll show you what I ordered."

Bulma let him guide her through the hallways, her mind still numb from shocked disbelief. _Vegeta_, of all people, working at Capsule Corp, and instantly named Assistant Vice President? Who would have thought it?

"Hey, Vegeta!"

"Congratulations, Mr. Vegeta!"

"I heard about how you canned Gai. Good for you, I wish I could have seen that."

Vegeta nodded in acknowledgement to each employee who smiled and congratulated him in the hallways as he and Bulma headed for his office. He had to admit that yes, it _did_ feel good to be appreciated. "Here we are," he said, opening the door.

"They gave you Gai's office? Wow, talk about rubbing salt in the wound! Does Gai know?"

Vegeta continued on into the room and into the smaller private office. "Oh, yes he does. I enjoyed every moment of it. So, how do you like the desk?"

Bulma eyed the large, simple but stately wood desk and leather executive chair he had selected. "Very nice," she commented, running her hand across the desk's highly polished surface.

"I thought so, even though your father insisted that I should get something more contemporary. But that's just not me," Vegeta agreed. "It's nice and sturdy. Solid." He sat down on the corner of the desk and looked out the window. "I'm sure it would support quite a bit of weight." There was a hint of suggestion in his voice.

"Yes, which is good for the project I'm about to give you."

Vegeta turned toward the owner of the voice and made a face. "I never thought I'd frown to see you come in the room. But you've been extremely helpful to me so I'll forgive you this once."

Anya giggled and set a rather large box on his desk. "Of course you will. You're also quite fond of my banana bread, remember?" she reminded him.

"Anya?" Bulma asked incredulously. "You're working here, too?"

"Temporarily, until Pops gets a permanent assistant," Anya said with a nod. "Isn't this a Briefs family business anyway? After all, you did give Geta employee status and signing rights, remember?"

Bulma chuckled as Anya left the room. "Yes, I did. People are going to start talking soon."

"So what? I know what some of them are already saying about me," Vegeta informed her dryly.

"Oh? What's that?" Bulma inquired.

Vegeta sighed. "Think about it, Bulma."

"You mean- oh." Her eyebrow rose. _It must have something to do with his relationship with me._ "You're the employee who received the rude comments, aren't you?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not going to repeat them, so don't ask," Vegeta informed her. "But let's just say that they were out of line enough that your father refused to overlook them."

"I see." Bulma didn't look pleased.

"I didn't tell you that to upset you, Bulma," Vegeta said quietly. "But I thought you deserved to know."

"I appreciate hearing it from you instead of through the office grapevine, I guess," she mumbled. "I just didn't expect it so soon. Oh, well. Anyway," she continued, changing the subject, "we'll have to go over what you're supposed to be doing and what you've got on your plate right now."

"I know." Vegeta sighed.

"What's wrong?" Bulma asked, concerned.

"I hope I can do this, Bulma. It's not exactly what I was born to do," he admitted. "Of course, neither was living on this planet."

"You'll be fine," Bulma assured him. "I've never seen you give up on anything you set out to do. You're one of the most determined people I've ever met."

His eyes locked with hers. "You can count on it," he whispered.

Her mouth opened slightly; his meaning had not gone unnoticed. "I... Well, we can talk about it over lunch. How does Thai sound?"

Vegeta was enjoying the flush of pink over her cheeks but wisely refrained from saying anything else that might be construed by others as inappropriate for the office. Anya had just taught him that lesson moments ago. "Whatever you like," he told her.

"All right. How does 12:30 sound?" Bulma decided.

Vegeta nodded. "That's fine. I'll meet you in your office then."

"Okay." Neither of them spoke for a moment. "Well, I see you have plenty to do so I'll leave you to it." Bulma quickly left the room.

Vegeta sighed and sat down at his desk. This would not be easy. Dealing with how he felt about her never was.

* * *

Vegeta entered Bulma's office at 12:30 sharp. "Good afternoon, Miwa," he greeted the young lady manning the phones.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Vegeta. How is your first day going so far?" Miwa asked, gracing him with a smile of encouragement.

Vegeta shrugged. "So far, so good I guess. I've gotten some really important things done already, like figuring out how to program a voice greeting into my phone."

Miwa giggled. "Can't forget an important detail like that, or your personal identification greeting either. Otherwise, everyone will think Gai is still working here sharing an office with you," she teased.

Vegeta grimaced. "I'm double checking that phone as soon as I get back to my desk," he groused, making her giggle again. "Is Bulma ready? We were supposed to discuss a few things over lunch."

Miwa's face promptly fell and she nibbled at her lips. "Well, uhm, she has someone in her office right now."

"Oh?" Vegeta was tempted to reach out with his ki to see if he knew who it was but resisted it. Not only was he restricted, but it would be rude to Bulma. "Should I come back later?"

Miwa hesitated for a moment, grateful she didn't have to be the bearer of bad news when the door to Bulma's private office opened, but at the same time a little nervous to see what Vegeta's reaction would be.

"Come on, Bulma. We haven't had lunch in a while," Hiroshi coaxed, leading her out of the room. "We'll go eat at that new Thai place you've been wanting to try."

Vegeta scowled. Not a snowball's chance in hell was he going to back down on this one. "Oh, did I miss your phone call, Bulma?" he spoke up in an icy tone. "You never mentioned what's-his-face having any input during our lunch meeting today."

Bulma sighed. This was going to be ugly, she just knew it. "Hiroshi, I told you that it'll have to be another time, okay? We can do lunch on-"

"Oh, no you don't," Hiroshi interrupted rudely. "The king of the apes is your lunch meeting? You cannot be serious if you expect me to gladly take the back seat to that freak of nature."

Bulma noticed Miwa's eyes continually widening as she couldn't help but witness the ugliness taking place. It was like looking at a car wreck as you drove by- gruesome and horrific, but you still couldn't manage to make yourself turn away.

"Both of you stop it with the insults, and I mean _now_," Bulma snapped. "Kami, I swear you're worse than children. Is this what I'm going to have to be putting up with now that you work here, Vegeta? Because we need another groundskeeper, you know."

"Really?" Vegeta's face brightened with mock surprise. "Takashita, it's perfect for you! You're hired. Go see Hina about your uniform later. Good man." He took Bulma by the arm and steered her toward the door. "Thanks, Miwa. I'll bring you back some spicy peanut chicken."

Hiroshi was fairly fuming with rage. "You arrogant son-of-a-"

His insults were cut short when Vegeta shut the door behind them. "Whoops. Should we have brought Takashita something as well?"

Bulma stopped in the hallway and faced him. "Now you look here," she began in a low voice. "Do not do that again," she told him, clearly accentuating each word individually. "I'm serious. Daddy may have hired you to work for me but that doesn't mean I will tolerate any bullcrap from you, got it?"

Vegeta gave her a lopey smile. "You're beautiful when you're angry."

"Vegeta! I'm not joking here!" Bulma hissed, not missing an employee walking down an intersecting hallway watch them as he went by.

"All right, I'm sorry I picked on him," Vegeta groused irritably as he headed down the hallway again. "Had it been a misunderstanding on his part I would not have said what I did, but I simply would not stand for him trying to muscle his way into having lunch with you after we already had plans, as if he is of more importance."

Of more importance than what Vegeta hadn't said, but it was clear what he meant. Bulma sighed. He was forcing her to not only take a side, but fill in what he meant. "Vegeta, please don't do this. We're having lunch as planned, all right?"

She turned as the office door slammed and Hiroshi walked by, nose in the air and looking quite put out. "Have a nice lunch with King Kong today," he spat. "I'm sure he'll be happy to peel you a banana for dessert."

Bulma saw Vegeta shift a little out if the corner of her eye, silently thanking Kami that he didn't respond with an insult of his own in return. "Let's just go, okay?"

"Fine."

They walked out to the parking lit in silence, ignoring the hushed whispers as they passed by random employees in the hallway.

Bulma dropped a car capsule and sighed as it opened to reveal one of her favorite sports cars. "Ugh, I've got such a headache," she complained as she opened the driver's side door.

"Want me to drive so you can rest a little?" Vegeta offered.

Bulma looked at him with surprise but tossed him her keys. "I didn't know you knew how to drive."

Vegeta shrugged. "It's easier than piloting a spacecraft," he assured her as he got into the driver's seat. He smiled as the engine turned over and rumbled to life. Power...

Bulma rested her head back and covered her eyes with one hand as they pulled out of the parking lot. "So when did you drive?"

Vegeta wracked his brain for a way to get out of this. She was already mad enough at him. "When Kakarrot's mate took you to see your physician when you were pregnant with Vegeta and I took the boy..." He paused. "What's his name?"

"Gohan."

"Yes, Gohan. We went to get breakfast and he whined that it was too cold to fly," he responded.

"Huh. Neither of my parents ever mentioned loaning you a car," she mused. She turned her head to look at him. "Where did you find a car?"

Vegeta sighed. "What does it matter? Can't we just go to lunch? Incidentally, where _is _lunch?" He pulled up to street at the end of the long driveway.

"Turn left. And I'm just curious. Gohan never mentioned anything either."

_She's going to pester me until I give her an answer._ "I found a capsule car laying around, so I borrowed it, then put it back where I found it. No big deal," Vegeta told her, facing dead forward, eyes locked onto the road.

_Hmm... What would have been-_ "Oh!"

Vegeta didn't need his ki to feel the change in her mood; obviously she'd figured it out. "Hmm?" he asked innocently.

"You drove my Ferrari, didn't you?" Bulma howled, hitting him on the arm. "That's why Gohan didn't say anything! He knew I'd be mad about it, and he's right!" She hit him again. "Damn it, Vegeta! That's my car, my baby! How could you just take it behind my back?"

Vegeta sighed as she continued to whale on him in emphasis of her words. "For Kami's sake Bulma, don't do that while I'm driving."

"Fine, I'll wait until we stop," she snapped.

Vegeta held back another sigh. "First off you _did _leave it laying around as I previously mentioned," he pointed out, "which you shouldn't have done with such a valuable possession. Secondly, would you have given _me _a vehicle to use if I had asked for one? After all, it was my first experience driving. Last, you were so anxious to get to your appointment that I didn't want to bother you with something like a vehicle." They got to a light and he stopped.

Bulma sat sullenly in her seat, not knowing what could she say to refute his argument.

"I didn't tell you this to anger you, Bulma," Vegeta said in a soft voice. "I suppose that's part of the reason I didn't tell you to begin with."

Bulma frowned. "Just part of the reason you didn't tell me you took my favorite car for a joyride? What else, pray tell, could be a reason?"

"I'm a jackass, remember?" he told her matter-of-factly. "Swiping your car for a couple of hours is child's play compared to other misdeeds I've committed against you." He grimaced as another driver cut them off. "Look, I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired of fighting with you." He reached over momentarily to squeeze her hand before taking it away to upshift. "Let's just put the whole past ten minutes behind us and have a nice lunch together, okay?"

Bulma blinked her eyes against the tears welling up. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she whispered. "I don't want to fight with you, either." He gave her a little grunt that she'd come to understand to be one of acceptance and agreement in lieu of speaking the words. "Oh! You were supposed to have turned right here!" she exclaimed, taking her turn to grimace when he whipped around the corner from the wrong lane, causing an irritated driver he turned in front of to lay on his horn and give him the finger.

Vegeta tried unsuccessfully to hold in a laugh when he peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw her clutching the arm rests and looking as terrified as Gohan had.

Bulma sat up straight in her seat and glared at him. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You look just like Gohan-" Vegeta abruptly shut up when he realized what he'd just inadvertently admitted. "Uhm, you looked like you did when you saw that spider in the shower," he supplied.

Instead of getting mad, a faint blush spread over Bulma's cheeks. "So, you were actually looking at my face then."

Vegeta's nostrils flared in amusement. "I was looking at all of you, Darling," he told her saucily. "I didn't mean to, but you know, old habits and all that good stuff." He gave her a sad little smile. "Is that it?"

Bulma looked up from her hands in her lap and nodded. "Yes, there on the corner."

He pulled the car into the parking lot, which was filling up rather quickly. "Here, I'll drop you off at the door so you can find a table while I park," he told her, pulling up alongside the building. "Besides, those heels don't look very comfortable," he added, not voicing the thought that they made her legs look like a million zeni.

Bulma smiled appreciatively as she got out of the vehicle, but once again her mind was warring. Why was he completely disagreeable one moment and such a sweet guy the next?

* * *

Okyoito paused as his cell phone rang. A wave of nervous excitement twisted in the pit of his belly as he recognized the number of the individual calling him. Was today the day? "Hello?"

"We need to talk," came the voice from the other end of the line. "Can you get away for lunch today?"

"Yes, absolutely," Okyoito responded immediately. "When and where would you like to meet?"

"There's a small deli at Main and 22nd," the man decided. "Do you know the place?"

"Yes, I know it," Okyoito responded, growing a little nervous as another employee passed by.

"Good. Meet me there at 1:00, and bring the item that we discussed."

"I will." Okyoito paused, as an employee known for being nosy was standing at a nearby workstation pretending to work. He knew better. "Okay, Mom. I'll see you at lunch."

"Mom?" the man asked dryly. It wasn't difficult to deduce what was going on. "Nosy employees nearby?"

"Yes, Mom. Okay, I love you too, Mom. Bye!" Okyoito didn't miss the sarcastic snort just before the call disconnected. He hoped the man wasn't too irritated at him. After all, if things worked out well, he could make a boatload of money on this.

"Going to lunch with your mom?" the nosy employee asked. " Aww, that's so sweet."

"Yup, gotta go or I'll be late." Okyoito grabbed a capsule from his desk drawer and stuffed it into his pocket before rushing out to his car. He pulled his phone out and called his contact back as he pulled out onto the street. "Sorry about that," he apologized as the call connected. "Everyone knows what a busybody that chick is."

"Whatever. Do you have the schematics?" the man asked.

"Yes, I have them." Okyoito put his hand on his thigh, where he could feel the capsule in his pocket. "I just want to remind you that this design isn't complete. It definitely needs some fine tuning."

"Don't you worry about that. I've got my own team to handle it," the man assured him.

"Okay. But I have nothing to do with this," Okyoito insisted.

"Yes, yes, I know." He was starting to sound a little irritable again. "What's wrong, are you worried about Bulma finding out?"

Okyoito straightened up in his seat. "I couldn't care less about her or what she thinks, as long as she doesn't suspect me. I'll be glad to see that prissy little bitch get her comeuppance," he said boldly, then paused when he remembered who he was talking to. "No offense."

To his surprise, his conversational partner merely laughed. "None taken, trust me. Saying she's a bitch is being kind. When I get this little invention of hers working, she'll be dumped so fast that she'll never know what hit her."

"And I get a cut of the profits, remember?" Okyoito persisted.

"Yes, yes, and a position in the lab." He definitely sounded irritable now.

"All right. Traffic's heavy, so I've got to hang up now... Hello?" Okyoito shrugged and tossed his phone onto the seat next to him. "So much for goodbye, Mr. Takashita," he muttered.

* * *

Vegeta choked on his popcorn and leaned forward on the loveseat. "Damn paparazzi!" he shouted, setting the enormous bowl he was snacking on onto the coffee table.

Geta rushed into the den, having heard yelling from within. "Father, what's wrong... Oh." There on the television were his parents having lunch while the show's host narrated what he thought had happened.

"I'm telling you, people, this is the same guy who made the front page of the _Western Capital Daily News_ all hot and heavy with the babeilicious blue bombshell herself. Even though she's currently dating Nakajima Industries executive Hiroshi Takashita, it sure looks like they've got more than lunch on the business agenda, if you get what I mean."

Vegeta growled as the talk show host grinned toothily at the camera. "We were exchanging a frickin' piece of paper, not holding hands! Any idiot could see that!"

Geta shrugged and flopped down onto the couch. "Better get used to it, especially now that you're AVP. How that happened so quickly is worthy enough of gossip. Forget about your connection to this family. I'm surprised that you've managed to evade the fact that you still live here and aren't-"

"I get the point, all right?" Vegeta interrupted. He grabbed the remote and shut off the television. "I'm going outside for a smoke."

Geta frowned. "Father, I really wish you wouldn't," he objected.

"Oh? So I suppose you'd rather I leave for a few hours and come back like I did last time, hmm?" he challenged, well aware that it had been his son who'd gotten him home after he couldn't even walk in a straight line.

Geta's shoulders drooped. "No, and I wish you wouldn't do that either," he said quietly.

Vegeta frowned at his son's discomfort. "Look, Son. I appreciate your concern but I need something to calm myself down that does not involve blood on my hands."

Geta watched him go and sighed. He could completely see how his father would be upset by what had been on the television. Vegeta desperately wanted to regain Bulma's love, and rumors insinuating that they must be having an affair would only be like a slap in the face to his father. He wished he could help, but was powerless to do anything that would make his parents' situation better.

Bulma rushed into the den. "What's wrong?" she exclaimed. "Was that you yelling?"

"No, Father saw something on the television that really upset him," Geta told her.

Bulma frowned. "What was it?"

"Well..." Geta related the story.

Bulma winced, going a little pink herself. "This isn't good," she mumbled.

"Yeah, Hiroshi isn't going to be pleased when he finds out that you're cheating on him and Father is the other man, huh?"

Bulma chose to ignore the sarcasm in her son's voice. "I'll deal with him," she assured her son. "For now, I should go talk to your father."

Geta nodded in agreement. "He said he was going outside for a smoke."

Bulma didn't look happy but nodded nonetheless. "Thanks." She headed for Vegeta's room, figuring that he might have gone outside through his balcony. Instinct served her correctly when she saw the glow of the end of the cigarette he was smoking as he inhaled. She opened the balcony door and went outside, the instant cold of the air causing her to wrap her arms around herself. "Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned his head to look back at her, as he was straddling the metal railing that enclosed the balcony, one knee bent up and his other leg dangling over the edge. "Bulma."

The night sky was amazingly clear, and the light of the stars illuminated his profile slightly. "That's a good idea."

He turned, swinging his legs back over the railing so he was facing her. "I thought you disapproved of me smoking," he commented, reaching into his pocket to tap another cigarette out of the box. He lit it with the butt of the first one, which he then flipped over the side of the balcony.

Bulma frowned. "Nice. But I was referring to the hoodie. It looks warm."

"It is." Vegeta had even managed to pull up the hood, his long hair poking out above his forehead.

She shivered. "I didn't see what you saw on the television, but Geta told me about it," she told him. "Look, you're just going to have to get used to this sort of thing, okay?"

Vegeta sighed but nodded, remembering their conversion months ago when he'd been upset over her picture in a gossip magazine. "I know. But I do not approve of the untruth of what that man was insinuating was taking place."

Bulma bit at her lip a little as he spoke. "You know, a lot of well-known people get trash talked about all the time. You've just got to let it roll off your back, because most of it isn't true and people know it. It just amuses them to gossip about other people who aren't every day 'normal' people," she explained, gesturing with her fingers as she spoke.

"And these people make money out of titillating the masses," Vegeta finished, taking another good drag on his cigarette.

"Yes, exactly," Bulma agreed, shivering again.

This is what Vegeta had wanted- for her to seek him out while he had gone to seek solace. Now that it had finally happened, it was because of a stupid reason that wouldn't allow him to be comforted by her presence. But, he couldn't just let her freeze even if she was foolish enough to come outdoors unsuitably clothed. "Oh, come here," he groused, reaching out to grab her wrist and pull her toward him.

She gasped in surprise when he heaved her up onto the railing beside him. "Vegeta, are you crazy? I'm going to fall!"

"No, you won't."

"How do you know?" she demanded. "This railing isn't very wide, and we're high up enough that I could be seriously injured."

"No, you wouldn't, because I could never let you fall." Vegeta turned back around to face the night sky. "Come on, turn around with me."

Bulma had a death grip on the railing and shook her head. "No way."

Vegeta frowned. "You said you trusted me with your life when I brought you and Vegeta outside through the nursery window," he reminded her. "That hardly seems to be the case now."

Feeling a little guilty at the remembrance that she had indeed said that, Bulma gingerly slid one leg over the railing and turned a little, then slowly repeated the process with the other leg.

"See? You can do anything you want to if you forget about being afraid and just try," Vegeta told her. He scooted a little closer and put an arm around her.

"Vegeta-"

"Hush, now. This balcony is practically shaking from your shivering," Vegeta chastised her gently. "Why didn't you put a coat on, silly woman?" He rubbed her arm briskly in an effort to generate some heat.

"I don't know. Maybe I didn't think I'd be sitting outside on your balcony railing, silly man," Bulma retorted. She frowned at the long exhalation of smoke he let out. "All right, hand it over."

"What?" Vegeta took a turn at frowning when she leaned forward to pluck the half smoked cigarette from his fingers and flip it onto the ground below. "Bulma, what the hell?"

"And the pack." Bulma held out her hand, wriggling her fingers insistently.

"No way," he imitated her.

Bulma didn't look amused. "Come on, hand it over."

Vegeta growled but handed her the pack. "What difference does it make to you? After all, it's not as though you're my..." He sighed, shutting up before he said something else to hurt her.

Bulma did look hurt. "It does matter to me, Vegeta," she said in a quiet voice. "No matter what happens to us, you'll always be my baby boy's father, and my friend."

Vegeta's face hardened. It was just like what her future self had said. "Oh goodie, your friend," he said sarcastically. "No offense Bulma, but I don't _want _to be your friend. I want..." He trailed off and stared out into the distance.

Bulma's face fell, tears threatening to fall. "Vegeta, I..." Her lips trembled and she looked down at her lap.

Vegeta sighed again. "Once again, I have hurt you," he murmured, reaching over with his other hand to tip her chin up. "Don't cry. You are a stronger woman than that."

"How can I not cry-"

He placed a finger over her lips. "Shhh." He drew her closer, leaning in. Perhaps this evening wouldn't be a total loss after all.

Their eyes locked. "Vegeta," Bulma whispered.

"Yes, Bulma?" Vegeta whispered back, tilting his head still closer to hers.

"I..." Bulma felt herself weakening. He'd always made her feel so stupid in the head when he did this to her. "Maybe we should go inside. It's awfully cold out here."

"I'll keep you warm." Both arms wrapped around her as he kissed her.

Bulma couldn't help but respond as he held her close and kissed her insistently. Gods, he always felt so right, smelled so good, and kissed like nobody's business. She let go of her grip on the railing, her arms sliding around him as well.

They wobbled a little unsteadily, making her gasp and cling even tighter to him. "Oh!"

Vegeta kissed her neck. "I could never let you fall, Bulma," he repeated in a whisper. He gave her another kiss. "I want to work things out between us. Just let me be a better man to you, the man I know I can be," he continued urgently.

Her face softened and she felt tears once again forming in her eyes. His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to consider. "Oh, Vegeta..."

A knock at the balcony door startled them both, and they turned toward it. Geta stood at the other side, looking rather apologetic.

_Damn it, just when things were going well for once._ Vegeta scowled and gave his son a look that clearly demanded to know what was of such importance that Geta would interrupt him getting somewhere with Bulma.

:I'm sorry to interrupt, but Hiroshi is on the line demanding to speak with Mother,: came the tired sounding mental response. :He says if I don't put her on the line, he's coming over to deal with her.:

There was a long pause. :Fine. I'll tell her. Stupid bastard.:

"Vegeta, what is it?" Bulma asked, noting the angry scowl on his face as their son walked away.

"Evidently your boyfriend is on the phone demanding to speak with you," Vegeta reported darkly. "If you don't pick up the phone, he's coming over to deal with you."

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "Deal with me?" she repeated, sounding rather offended.

Vegeta shrugged. "That's what Geta said."

"Help me back over the railing please, so I can 'deal' with him," Bulma said irritably.

Vegeta nodded and got back onto the balcony, then lifted her up beside him.

Bulma couldn't help but feel a stab of pain at the hurt he wasn't bothering to conceal. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I know we needed to talk. Come back inside, okay?"

He sighed but followed her inside, peeling the hoodie off and throwing it onto the bed before leaving the room.

"Come with me, so you can answer any questions about that picture. I'm sure that's what he's crabbing about." They walked to the kitchen in silence, and she picked up the phone. "Hello-"

It took all of half a second before Vegeta could hear Hiroshi's voice yelling from the phone. He put down the food he'd gotten from the refrigerator and came over to her, holding out his hand in a silent demand for her to hand it over.

Bulma was grimacing and holding the phone away from her ear but held up a finger, indicating for him to wait. "Listen here, Hiroshi," she interrupted loudly. "You know most of those so-called news stories are bull, so don't you dare say such a thing to me." She paused. "No, I didn't see it but I could hear Vegeta blowing up from down the hall. Needless to say, he was not happy." Another pause. "Hmm, let me think. Maybe because it wasn't true and put both of us in a bad light? We were exchanging a piece of paper. It _was _a business lunch, you know. So just cool your jets, got it?" She shook her head as he continued to gripe. "Look, I'll see you at tomorrow's meeting, okay? I'm getting some sleep now... Fine, okay. Bye." Bulma put the phone back into its cradle. "Ugh! He's being such a jerk!"

Vegeta refrained from asking her "so what else is new?" and held up a bowl of triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream he'd just prepared. "Here, have some. You'll feel better once you calm down."

"Oh, that's too much," she objected. "Maybe just one scoop."

He held the bowl closer. "You aren't fat, Bulma, no matter what anyone else says," he told her matter-of-factly, leaving out who he was really referring to. "Two scoops are not going to change that."

Bulma smiled at him gratefully and accepted the ice cream from him. "Thanks, Veggie," she told him in a soft voice.

Gods, she was beautiful. "You're welcome," Vegeta responded in turn.

"Want to watch a little TV while we eat it?" Bulma asked. "I promise no news or talk shows."

Vegeta snorted and picked up the container and a spoon. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

"Mmmm... That was so good." Bulma leaned over and placed her bowl onto the coffee table next to Vegeta's empty container.

"Indeed it was," Vegeta agreed. He turned to sit back against the arm of the couch, then leaned down to grab one of her feet, peeling the sock off of it.

"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise.

"Rubbing your feet," he responded. "You said it feels good during your menses, didn't you?"

"You don't have to do that," she told him, remembering the time she'd asked him to rub her feet and he'd flatly refused.

"I know. I want to."

Bulma giggled when he made a face and pulled a piece of sock fuzz from between her toes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Bulma," he told her, reaching over to turn off the television before resuming his task.

She sighed in contentment as he rubbed gently, repeating the process with her other foot. By the time he was done, she was fast asleep. Moving slowly so as not to wake her, he lifted her bridal style and carried her to her room, placing her onto the bed and pulling the blankets over her.

"Good night, Princess," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek before creeping out of her room.

He peeled off his sweatpants and t-shirt and flopped down onto his bed. The evening had ended up amicably between them, and he couldn't help but wonder what might have happened that day had they not been interrupted, had he actually spoken his mind to her.

* * *

Vegeta's phone rang and he set down the file he'd been working on. It wasn't Bulma's extension or Dr. Briefs', so he answered it in the safest way he knew. "This is Vegeta."

"Hey, Vegeta," came Bulma's voice. "How many languages do you speak?"

Her voice sounded like Dr. Briefs' had when she'd put him on the speaker phone, so Vegeta figured she must have turned the speaker of whatever phone she was using on as well. How many people were also listening was unknown to him, and he didn't want to incite panic or excitement by asking whether she meant all languages or just Earth ones. Some people knew he was an alien to this planet, but not everyone did. "Ask me if I speak a particular language and I'll tell you."

"Okay," Bulma agreed. "Do you speak Rocoto?"

"Yes." Vegeta could hear a buzz of surprised interest from others who must also be in the same room. "Are you in need of assistance?"

"Yes. Could you come to my conference room, please?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta paused. No one else was there at the moment. "Certainly. I will be right there." He hung up, checked the neatness of the accursed tie around his neck, and headed down the hall. While on the topic of "accursed," if he had heard Bulma correctly the evening before while she'd been on the telephone, there would be someone there who fit the description. He nodded to Nuiko and Mina, then rapped briefly on the door.

"Come in," Bulma called out from behind the closed door.

Vegeta entered the room, where quite a few people were in attendance, including, of course, Hiroshi. _Damn._ "Good morning, everyone."

"I think most of you know Vegeta," Bulma spoke up.

"I'll say," a female voice piped up, and Vegeta felt his cheeks turn a little pink. This flirtatious woman had seen him on numerous occasions where he'd been training and had been clad in nothing more than a pair of spandex training shorts, shoes, and sweat.

"For those of you who don't, this is Vegeta, our new AVP," Bulma reported, shooting the woman a look that clearly told her that this was neither the time nor place for such comments.

Vegeta nodded politely to everyone in attendance. "How can I be of assistance, Bulma?"

"Mr. Haraguchi's contact Mr. Piquant in Pepperland only speaks Rocoto, but our translator was in a car accident this morning and is unable to attend today," Bulma explained, indicating a man seated across the table from her. "This contact will be of great use to us, so I'm relieved to hear that you'll be able to translate. Have a seat."

Vegeta nodded in agreement and sat down in an empty chair at the table. "If you can give me his name and a brief synopsis of the situation, I would be pleased to assist you." He ignored Hiroshi's rather dramatic roll of his eyes. Bastard.

The man Bulma had indicated earlier gave him an overview. "So he actually has all of the materials we think will work for Ms. Briefs' project, and we need to place an order as soon as possible so that we can meet our deadline. He is anticipating this call so it would have been devastating to this project to have not made it."

"All right, I'm ready when you are," Vegeta told him. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous as Mr. Haraguchi placed the call, and didn't know why he'd feel that way. After all, he did know the language, even if he didn't have opportunity to speak it very often. When the call connected, he spoke to the woman who answered.

"Is he there?" Bulma asked when it became evident that their call had been placed on hold.

"Yes, she is going to connect the call-" Vegeta stopped mid-sentence when the call picked up again. There was a brief conversation between them. "Mr. Piquant sends his greetings to all parties of this meeting, and I have returned the sentiment to him in your behalf," he told them. "He says that he is aware of your desire to obtain a list of materials that Mr. Haraguchi's assistant forwarded to him and confirmed that he is able to provide all of them. He is open to negotiations regarding quantity, price and delivery time."

"Here is a list of what we want," Mr. Haraguchi told him, sliding a list over.

Vegeta felt his heart sink; the list was composed entirely in Western Standard. "Thank you," he said quietly, accepting the paper. He stared at it for a moment but said nothing.

"Well?" Hiroshi demanded. "Why are you just sitting there?" Suddenly his face brightened, and Vegeta's heart sank even further as he realized that the horrid man had figured it out. "You can't read Western, can you?" he crowed triumphantly. "That's why that text you got from Bulma's mother was in Eastern." He laughed heartily as an extremely embarrassed and peevish expression crossed Vegeta's face.

"Hiroshi!" Bulma exclaimed. "Please, this is important." She looked at Vegeta apologetically. "Vegeta..."

"No, Mr. Takashita, I cannot read Western," Vegeta admitted, attempting to keep his tone of voice neutral to avoid an ugly tone that their contact would pick up. Why hadn't he just had Frieza's computer programmers input the character systems of all of the languages he'd ever learned along with the language absorption? Rather than considering it to be a waste of time since he simply wanted to find the Dragonballs and leave, perhaps even destroying the planet after he left, it would have made his life now so much easier. He slid the paper over to Hiroshi. "Why don't you offer me your valuable assistance, or could it be that you speak Rocoto and my presence is no longer required here?"

"Whatever." Hiroshi scowled, unable to answer in a way that would allow him to save face, and began to translate the short list to Eastern Standard.

Mr. Piquant spoke briefly and Vegeta responded. "Mr. Piquant wanted to know what had happened, so I told him that Mr. Takashita had been very pleased to hear that we could obtain everything from him." He eyed Hiroshi pointedly. "Shall we begin?"

Hiroshi slid the list back over but said nothing. A string of unuttered curses ran through his mind, but this stupid monkey wasn't worth losing his job over. Besides, if Bulma got mad enough at him, he might be put out of the loop, something he didn't want since it would hurt him financially. If he could only put up with these two idiots and their equally idiotic family a little bit longer, he'd be free of her before he knew it.

* * *

"Vegeta, hang back for a little, please," Bulma requested as everyone began to file out of the meeting. "This won't take long. Hiroshi, please wait for me while I finish up here." She gave Hiroshi a look that clearly meant that she wouldn't put up with anything else from him.

"Sure, fine," Hiroshi groused, leaving the room with the others.

Bulma closed the door. "Vegeta, I'm really sorry about what happened just now," she told him.

Vegeta frowned, recalling the looks of surprise the others had exchanged, all eyes ending up on him. "I've already told you that I don't want you apologizing for anyone else's behavior," he responded, wisely refraining from adding "especially Hiroshi's."

She nodded. "Yes, I remember," she acknowledged. "But just the same, I never wanted you to be embarrassed by your situation, especially in the way it came out in the open." She placed a hand on his arm. "I'll take care of him, okay?"

Vegeta nodded but didn't make any comment.

Bulma sighed. "Listen, I'm going to have Gai's assistant Hina work for you. She needs to be permanently reassigned and she's fluent in both Eastern and Western. She should be of great assistance to you, especially where all of your HR duties are concerned."

"Thank you," Vegeta told her.

"You're welcome," Bulma said. "If you need anything just let me know, okay?"

"I will." Vegeta decided that he wouldn't let an idiot like Hiroshi bring him down. He couldn't stand tall if he let the man win.

"Good." Bulma paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'll bring you something back for lunch."

Vegeta figured on the reason she'd made her statement so brief. "Where are you two going?"

Bulma found herself grateful that he had been so tactful about it. "I'm not sure yet, but I know what you like." She gave him a little smile. "Hey, don't let this bring you down," she said, patting his arm. "Your help was invaluable today. Thank you."

He nodded again. "You're welcome, Bulma."

The look in his eyes made her feel warm all over. She knew he had done this for her and no other reason. "I've got to go. I'll bring you something back." She left the conference room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Mrs. Briefs knocked at the bedroom door. "Vegeta?" she called out. "Could you give me a hand please?"

Momentarily the door opened. "Sure. What did you need?" he asked.

"My arthritis is bad today and the trash is too heavy for my wrists," she told him. "I should have changed it sooner."

"Don't be upset with yourself," Vegeta told her, detecting the irritation in her voice. "You felt fine yesterday, didn't you? Besides, you shouldn't be taking out the trash yourself. From now on, ask me or Geta to do it."

Mrs. Briefs smiled at him fondly. "You're such a dear boy," she informed him. "Thank you."

He nodded. "You're welcome." He followed her to the kitchen and took out the trash.

Mrs. Briefs regarded him thoughtfully as he came back into the kitchen and washed his hands. He looked a little melancholy. "What's wrong, Dear?"

Vegeta sighed deeply. She'd hear about it sooner or later anyway. "Takashita figured out that I can't read Western and blabbed to everyone in the middle of a meeting yesterday," he told her. "I was determined that I wouldn't let it get to me, but my illiteracy bothers me more than I thought it would."

Mrs. Briefs pursed her lips. _The poor boy, embarrassed by that horrid man._ "Come with me," she said softly. She lead him to the den and removed some paper and a pencil from a box beside the couch. "Sit down with me, Dear."

He did as she requested, watching as she flipped through the pad on her lap. "Did you draw these?"

"Yes, I did. Do you like them?" she asked brightly.

"They're quite good," Vegeta told her sincerely.

"Oh, thank you, Dear. This is a koi pond I'd love to put near my gardens. This is a dinosaur I saw. This is a very nice beach that Shatsu and I went to on our honeymoon..." She described each picture as she turned the pages.

"Very impressive," Vegeta told her.

Mrs. Briefs beamed even more. "You know, drawing can be very therapeutic. Watercolors, too. Maybe you should consider taking one of them up. Meanwhile, here's what I wanted to show you." She found a blank page and began writing, verbalizing each Western Standard character as she made it. "You can practice these, then we'll go over some more when you're ready." She handed him the pencil and sketch pad.

He accepted the items gratefully. "Thank you, Bunny."

"You're so very welcome, Vegeta. You're a bright young man, so I'm sure you'll be back to see me soon." She got up from the couch and kissed him on the cheek before heading for the door.

Vegeta looked at the pad in his hands. Shouldn't small children be doing this? He sighed. At least he was learning, right?

* * *

The next few days passed by quickly for Vegeta, mostly because he was trying to learn the ropes of his new position while Bulma was once again out of the office. Fortunately for him Hina was proving to be extremely helpful during his transition.

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he picked it up. "Yes, Hina?"

"I have our representative from Itou Chemicals on the line. We buy a lot of our lab supplies from them. They have a surplus of a certain chemical we use that he wants to sell at a discount. The call was routed here because Bulma isn't in. I tried calling her myself but she's not answering," Hina explained. "It's almost time to place our regular order, so I'm sure that Bulma would definitely buy a little extra to get such a great deal."

"I see. All right, put them through," Vegeta directed.

"All right. This is Mr. Kotani on the line."

"Thank you." Vegeta waited until the background noise changed. "Good morning, this is Vegeta."

* * *

Dr. Briefs' cell phone rang. "Oh, it's Vegeta."

Mrs. Briefs turned onto the expressway. "Ask him what he wants for dinner," she told him.

"Hello, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs said brightly as he answered the phone.

"Good morning, Shatsu. How is your leg feeling?" Vegeta asked.

"Good, good, thanks for asking. The missus and I just left my doctor's office. X-rays look good and I had my first physical therapy session. He'll send someone out to our place next time."

"That's great news," Vegeta told him.

"Hi, Vegeta!" Mrs. Briefs sang, earning an amused chuckle from the Saiyan on the other line.

"Tell Bunny hello for me, and ask her what's for dinner," Vegeta requested.

Dr. Briefs laughed. "She asked me to ask you what you wanted," he said, shooting an amused look his wife's way.

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "Ask him how lamb chops sound."

"Sounds delicious," Vegeta responded immediately, having heard her.

"He said that sounds delicious," Dr. Briefs reported.

"Shatsu, I don't mean to cut this short, but I have our representative from Itou Chemicals on hold. He's offered to sell us his surplus of magnesium five. I tried all of Bulma's numbers, but no one can get hold of her, so I'm asking your permission to buy it. I wanted to wait to ask her, but he said take it or leave it because he has someone else to sell it to if I don't order it now."

"Oh. I see. What are the terms?" Dr. Briefs asked.

"He offered me a ten percent discount if we paid half down and the balance upon delivery," Vegeta reported. "I suggested a one-year standing order at a fifteen percent discount, and then we'd talk. We eventually settled at a one-year standing order at a thirteen percent discount, and added a few other items I noticed that we also use frequently."

Dr. Briefs laughed jovially. "Vegeta, once again your negotiation skills have proven to be absolutely amazing!" he exclaimed. "Yes, order the supplies right away and approve the payment. I'll get in touch with Bulma on this, since I know you need to get moving on it."

"Thank you, Shatsu. The shipment will arrive tomorrow. I'll request that they e-mail you a copy of the invoice," Vegeta told him.

"Wonderful! Thank you, Vegeta. I'll let you go now." Dr. Briefs' voice was full of pride for the younger man's accomplishment.

"All right. I'll see you for dinner. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Dr. Briefs ended the call. "Bunny, that boy never ceases to amaze me."

* * *

The elder Briefs entered the kitchen, depositing their purchases onto the counter. "Geta, is Bulma home?" Dr. Briefs asked.

Geta turned from raiding the refrigerator and plunked sandwich fixings onto the counter. "No, she went out to dinner with Hiroshi," he responded, sounding a little disgusted.

"Oh. Well, I'll try calling her. There's something very important that I need to tell her." Dr. Briefs took his phone out of his pocket and placed the call.

Presently a vibrating noise was heard and they all looked over toward the sound. Sure enough, Bulma's phone was on the counter next to the junk bowl.

"Great," Dr. Briefs muttered. "I guess I'll have to catch her when she gets home tonight."

* * *

Bulma opened the brochure she was holding and held it out to her boyfriend. "What do you think of this one, Hiroshi?"

Hiroshi looked at the brochure and shrugged apathetically. "I suppose it looks nice."

Bulma let out an exasperated huff. "Come on, help me decide."

Hiroshi frowned at her. "I still don't see why you want me to come," he groused, tossing the brochure back on the table in front of her.

Bulma took a turn at frowning. "This is for my birthday, remember? Of course I want you to come. Sandy beaches, beautiful blue skies, plenty of things to do. What else could you ask for?"

_For you to shut the hell up, you freaking nag!_ "We'll talk about it. Laying around doing nothing sounds pretty boring if you ask me," Hiroshi said, sounding quite boring himself.

"May I remind you that this is _my _birthday, and I would very much like to visit this resort?" she said irritably.

"Fine fine, we'll do something or whatever. I don't know why you waited so long to plan this." Hiroshi waved to the waitress passing by. "Check please. Sheesh Bulma, I'm surprised that not everyone can tell you're on the rag. Tone it down a little, will you?" This he said in front of the now startled waitress, who quickly put their check down and rushed off, mumbling something about being back to pick the check up in a few minutes.

"Oh! You're such a jerk sometimes," Bulma hissed. "Why'd you have to do that?"

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. "You're too sensitive. Take a pill or something." He looked at the check and pulled some money out of his wallet. "Here's my half."

Bulma made a disgusted noise and got some money from her purse. "Just leave the change so we can get out of here."

"Fine. You're not being a very pleasant dining companion tonight anyway," Hiroshi commented rudely.

" 'Dining companion'?" Bulma echoed. "Is that all I am to you?"

"I told you, you're being too sensitive," Hiroshi badgered her. "Let's go."

* * *

"Stupid jerk. Who does he think he is?" Bulma growled as she hung up her coat.

"Bulma, are you all right?"

Bulma turned around and scowled at who she saw. "Don't you start with me too, because I'm not in the mood for it. Ugh, you men are just a bunch of inconsiderate jerks!" She stormed off.

Vegeta took another swig of his beer and watched her go, muttering curses as she headed for her room. "Okay... That must not have been a very good date."

* * *

Bulma shuffled through the stack of papers on her desk. She had just booked her birthday vacation and was still stewing over Hiroshi's stupid comments the night before. "Stupid Hiroshi." She crumpled up one of the papers and threw it at the trash can she'd placed by the door. Instead of feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sound of the paper hitting the bottom of the can, she felt herself growing even more irritated as the paper bounced off the edge of the can, joining several other unfortunate pieces already on the floor. "Uhhh! Stupid men!"

She scribbled her signature on the next paper and tossed it into her outbox for Nuiko to take care of. "Always thinking they're right..." She paused, a frown creasing her brow. "What the hell?" She picked up the next paper, a faxed invoice from Itou Chemicals, to examine it more closely. "I never authorized this order."

There on the page was a signature that was not hers. She frowned. "Who else could this be? I don't recognize this signature," she murmured to herself. "Who else besides Daddy and me..."

It suddenly struck Bulma who that someone might be. She got up from her desk and stormed out of her office. "Nuiko, whose signature is this?" she demanded, waggling the invoice in front of her face.

Nuiko pursed her lips and took the paper from her irritable employer. "Oh, that's Vegeta's," she told her. "Didn't he tell you he authorized that payment?"

"No, he did not," Bulma replied crisply. "He's going to hear it from me when I see him again, believe me."

"Bulma, I thought you knew that... Bulma?" Nuiko trailed off as Bulma snatched the invoice back and went into her private office, slamming the door.

Miwa winced. "I guess no one told her," she said in a tiny voice.

Nuiko sighed. It was times like this that she hated working for Bulma. She picked up the phone to call her when the main door opened.

"Good morning, ladies," Vegeta said smoothly as he strolled into the office. "How is everyone this fine morning?"

_Oh Kami... He's in such a good mood, too._ "Okay, I guess," Nuiko ventured.

"Just okay? That's not so good." Vegeta leaned against Nuiko's desk casually. "What's wrong?"

Before either woman could respond, Bulma's door opened and she stormed over.

"Ah, Bulma. I didn't get to talk to you yesterday. Did your father-"

"What is this? You authorized payment on this account?" Bulma interrupted accusingly.

He took the paper she shoved at him. Fortunately he recognized the invoice as the one he'd approved partial payment on just the day before, so he didn't have to admit in front of the others that he was unable to read the document, although they probably both knew by now. Dr. Briefs had been absolutely delighted with the arrangement Vegeta had made and had immediately supported approval of the payment. What was the problem? "Oh, yes. I was about to tell you about this," he responded. "In fact-"

"Save it," Bulma interrupted tersely. "You've been AVP all of a week. What makes you think that gives you leave to just take over things you know nothing about without even consulting me first?"

Vegeta was stunned. He was under the assumption that her father was going to tell her of the deal he'd struck with Itou Chemicals Industrial. Evidently that had not happened. She had no idea what he had just done and was chewing him out in front of everyone before he could even tell her about the situation. "You weren't here and I was unable to contact you, so I-"

She interrupted him a third time. "That's exactly it, Vegeta. I wasn't here, and I didn't assign this account to you. You'd better damn well hope they come through on this order." She grabbed the paper back from him. "Next time, don't even think about butting into anything I haven't asked you to do, got it?"

Vegeta felt his astonishment melt into indignance. "Bulma, if you would allow me to-"

"Excuse me?" she interrupted still again. "Don't forget who _I _am and who _you_ are, Vegeta. And don't forget to mind your place here next time." She crossed her arms haughtily.

Vegeta couldn't believe it. He was used to that type of verbal mockery and abuse coming from someone like Frieza, but from her? This, he didn't know how to take. She'd never asked him to address her formally here before, and she'd never cut him down the way she had just then, either at work or elsewhere. She had just hit him where it hurt the most- his pride- knowing full well who he was and choosing to degrade him in front of everyone. He realized that this was how he had sounded when he'd chastised Geta before leaving for space, and she was throwing what he'd done back in his face. _I suppose I deserved that._ He said nothing, but only nodded.

"Are we clear on this?" Bulma continued.

"Yes," he murmured.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I heard you properly." Bulma looked at him expectantly.

Vegeta felt his heart rip in two. Despite everything he'd done wrong in his short life, he'd done a _good_ thing this time. He knew he didn't deserve this from her but just couldn't bring himself to knock her down a well-deserved peg and defend himself. His feelings for her were intense and he had no desire to embarrass her. "Yes, Ms. Briefs, perfectly clear," he told her calmly. He tried to tell himself that this was just one more indignity dealt by Hiroshi he had to bear; after all, Bulma had come home from her date with him angry and ranting about what "inconsiderate jerks" men were. What else could it be?

"Good. Now get back to work. Make sure you're doing something you're actually _supposed _to be doing this time," Bulma snapped. She went into her private office and slammed the door, leaving him standing there with all eyes on him.

Silence.

Vegeta felt sick. This was Bulma. Good, sweet Bulma, who always tried to see the best in everyone, who was maliciously unkind to no one. "Perfectly clear," he muttered again. He couldn't stand knowing that the other two women in the office were looking at him and were probably feeling sorry for him, especially since they knew him well enough that they were aware that he was not only Bulma's ex but also the father of her son.

The women exchanged uneasy glances as Vegeta quietly headed for the door. They weren't stupid. Anyone who knew him before he had left for space could see that his behavior had changed, and anyone could see that he had feelings for the blue-haired woman. Being witness to her treating any employee the way she had was awkward enough; knowing what they did of his former relationship with Bulma made her treatment of him all the more humiliating.

_Oh, Vegeta... you poor man._ Miwa wanted to say something of encouragement to him but knew that he wasn't the type to want what he would view as sympathy. She wracked her brain helplessly until she noticed his coffee on Nuiko's desk right before he got to the door. "Mr. Vegeta, you forgot your coffee!" she called out to him, snatching up the mug and bringing it over to him. Perhaps this would do.

Vegeta turned and took the coffee from her. "Thank you, Miwa," he told her quietly.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Vegeta," she responded, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

She had called him "_Mr._ Vegeta" twice. He could see the woman's efforts to treat him in a dignified manner, suddenly realizing that he actually had the respect of these women. They weren't looking down at him. It didn't make him feel any better about what had just happened, but it did help knowing that he _did _have support of other employees if he needed it. He nodded and was about to leave again when the door opened and Dr. Briefs came in.

"Vegeta, m'boy, there you are," he exclaimed jovially. "I've been looking for you."

Vegeta accepted the doctor's extended hand and shook it. "You have?"

"Yes. I wanted to tell you in person how much I appreciate your _excellent_ work on the Itou contract. I don't know how I could be any more pleased with your efforts here, Son. I do hope you continue to surprise me," Dr. Briefs continued. "Bang up job, indeed!"

_Oh, Kami, I'm going to be sick... Why is this happening here and now?_ Any other time Vegeta would have been pleased to receive such heartfelt commendation from the older man, who he had come to very much respect. "Thank you, Dr. Briefs. I appreciate that."

Dr. Briefs waved his hand, dismissing Vegeta's statement. "Come now, Vegeta. I have already told you that it's Shatsu to you, here or elsewhere." He frowned; the prince didn't look like he was feeling well. "Are you all right, Son? You look a little ill." Concern colored his voice; this was highly unusual for Vegeta.

Vegeta chuckled weakly. "Yes, I'm fine. Just something I ate, I imagine. Saiyan stomach or not, I guess all those fast food breakfast sandwiches must finally be getting to me," he joked. "Serves me right for not eating a good breakfast."

Dr. Briefs could tell something was still not right. Vegeta's behavior seemed forced and the two women in the room were not their usual cheerful selves, but he decided to let it slide. He'd find out what was going on after Vegeta had gone. "Junk food will do that to you, yes. Oh, by the way, we _are_ still on for lunch on Monday, aren't we?"

"Yes, I have you on my calendar." Vegeta managed a little smile.

"Good, good. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need to run a few last minute things by Bulma before the missus and I leave. Thank you again, Son. I truly am very much impressed by your resourcefulness in the way you handled this contract." Dr. Briefs patted him on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Shatsu. I'll see you Monday, then. You and Bunny enjoy your weekend." Vegeta nodded to everyone in the room. "Ladies."

Nuiko and Miwa waved as he left the office. Dr. Briefs waited until the door closed. "All right. Would one of you care to tell me what's going on? He looked awful." He crossed his arms over his chest and gave them an expectant look.

Nuiko and Miwa exchanged a hesitant look but neither made a move to volunteer any information.

"Nuiko?"

Nuiko sighed. "Bulma found out that Vegeta approved payment on the Itou contract and got really upset," she began quietly. "She basically accused him of letting AVP go to his head and nosing in where he doesn't belong, then reminded him who he was here in comparison to her, and told him to get to work doing what he was actually supposed to be doing. She wouldn't let him try to explain, and when she asked him if he was clear on what she'd said, she refused to back down until she got him to say 'yes, Ms. Briefs, perfectly clear.' Then she went into her office and slammed the door. Kami, I felt sick having to watch it. I guess you could say she pretty much emasculated him in front of us." Nuiko's eyes shone with unshed tears. "After all they've been through..." She shook her head sadly. "Even if he'd done something really bad, she could have spoken to him privately."

Miwa nodded wordlessly. She rather liked Vegeta and it hurt to see such a proud man look so defeated. She had begun to cry while Nuiko was speaking and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Oh Dr. Briefs, I felt so bad for him. He looked like someone who'd just lost his best friend."

Dr. Briefs remained silent until the women were done speaking. "I see," he said quietly, but they could see that he was upset. "I realize now that I neglected to inform Bulma that I told Vegeta to approve that payment. I was so pleased by his efforts that it slipped my mind." He turned on his heel and headed for Bulma's door.

"Dr Briefs!" Nuiko called to him as his hand touched the doorknob. "Please... Vegeta wouldn't want this. If he did, he would have said something in his own defense. I know they both can give as good as they get, because I've watched them knock heads before. I can see in his eyes that he still loves her, and I'm sure you can see that too. Please remember that before you say anything to her."

Dr. Briefs drew in a deep breath. "You're right, Nuiko. Thank you. Miwa, please contact Hina and let her know that he and Bulma had an argument, so that she doesn't ask him any questions." He knocked on Bulma's door, then went inside to find her on the phone.

Bulma waved him in. "I have to go. Daddy just walked in. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye." She hung up the phone and folded her hands, looking up at her father expectantly. "What's up, Daddy?"

Dr. Briefs closed the door behind him. "I wanted to touch bases with you before your mother and I leave town," he told her. "Anything you want to run by me?"

Bulma thought about it. "Hmmm... No, I guess not."

_Well, that just guarantees that everything I was going to leave for you will be heading elsewhere._ "Really? Looks like you've got things under control then, Daughter." He smiled.

"Yep." Bulma tossed her pen onto a file on her desk and leaned back in her plush leather executive chair. "I run a tight ship around here."

It took everything Dr. Briefs had to bite his tongue on that one. Instead, he approached her desk and sat down in one of the guest chairs. "Good, good. Well, you know how to reach me should anything go amiss." He paused. "By the way, I ran into Vegeta leaving as I came in. He looked troubled when I commended him for his efforts on the Itou contract. That's odd, don't you think? Did he say anything to you about something troubling him?"

"C-commended him? Daddy, what do you mean you commended him? I just..." She trailed off.

"I meant to tell you, Bulma, but you left for your date before I could. It seems that your contact at Itou had a surplus and called to offer the excess to you at a ten percent discount, which as I'm sure you're aware would be a substantial savings. You weren't here, so the call was routed to Vegeta. Being the negotiator he is, Vegeta suggested that he give us a standing order for a year at a fifteen percent discount. They eventually settled at thirteen percent. Who wouldn't want a year's contract with us, considering how much of the stuff we buy? I wish _I _would have thought of that." Dr. Briefs paused as his daughter's eyes continually grew wider. "I know! How he does it is beyond me," he told her with a chuckle.

"Th-thirteen percent?" she gasped.

"Yes. Anyway, he told the rep at Itou he'd need to run it by you first but was told to take it or leave it, because if we didn't want the product he had someone else lined up to sell it to, one of our competitors, I imagine. The hitch was that we had to pay for half of the shipment on the spot to secure the deal, and they'd bill us for the other half. So he put the call on hold and tried several of your numbers unsuccessfully, then called me. Of _course_ I told him to approve the payment. We'll need those chemicals in our labs, and to get them at thirteen percent off at that volume is fantastic! We'll save over ten million zeni in this shipment alone." Dr. Briefs sat up in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "How do you like that? Quite a guy, isn't he? But I forgot to tell you, Pumpkin. Sorry about that."

"I... I had no idea..." Bulma stammered, suddenly feeling rather ill herself. _Oh, no... oh, Vegeta... what have I done?_

"That young man is just full of surprises. But why he'd act so strangely the way he did instead of just accepting my commendation is so odd, as was his excuse. Something he ate, he claims." Dr. Briefs shook his head. "That's the last story I'd believe. I thought he looked like someone had sucker punched him."

"Oh, Daddy... I... I can't believe what I did," Bulma whispered, fighting back tears. She felt absolutely wretched, sickened by the thought of how she'd just treated the man who had not only done the company- but even more so her- a great deed, retaining the services of a client who may have otherwise taken his business elsewhere and saving them a sizable sum in the process.

The worst part of it all was the reason she'd done it, the reason she'd been in such a bad mood. Vegeta didn't deserve that.

"Bulma?" Dr. Briefs prompted, knowing very well what was going through his daughter's mind.

A knock at the door interrupted them. "Hold that thought," he told her. "Yes?"

The door opened slowly to reveal Hina holding a clipboard. "Itou is here making the shipment," she informed them. "I need a signature, please."

"Why didn't Nuiko sign?" Dr. Briefs asked innocently, knowing that Nuiko signed for Bulma's projects on a regular basis. He twisted in his chair to face Hina and raised an eyebrow in a manner that let the young woman know that he was playing the innocent.

Bulma blushed slightly when she heard Nuiko declare "I'm not touching that thing with a ten-foot pole," in a loud, matter-of-fact voice from the main office and found herself grateful that her father was facing the opposite direction.

Hina gave him a 'don't kill the messenger' look and held out the clipboard.

"Really? That's odd. Hina, you could have had Vegeta sign for the shipment, you know. Wasn't he at his desk?" Dr. Briefs raised his eyebrow again.

"Yes, Sir. He declined to sign."

Dr. Briefs pretended to be surprised. "Why would he do that?" To Bulma's surprise, he leaned over and hit the speakerphone button on her phone, then dialed Vegeta's extension.

The line picked up after a few rings. "This is Vegeta," came his deep voice.

Bulma noted that he hadn't answered promptly with a pleasant "yes, Bulma," as he normally did when she called him. It hurt that he no longer felt comfortable addressing her. _Not that I could blame him,_ she thought soberly, feeling ashamed.

Dr. Briefs spoke up before she could say anything. "Vegeta, it's Shatsu. I'm still in Bulma's office. Did you know that Itou is delivering the order you approved right now?"

There was a brief pause. "Yes, I am aware that it has arrived. Is Hina there yet?"

"I'm here, Sir," Hina spoke up.

"I have to wonder why you sent her here instead of receiving the shipment yourself. You're perfectly capable of doing that, you know," Dr. Briefs informed him.

They heard a deep intake of breath and a low creak from his chair as he shifted in it. He exhaled slowly before speaking. "I... I thought it would be more appropriate to have one of you sign," he murmured. "It isn't my project to authorize." The discomfort in his voice was evident.

"Nonsense, m'boy. You don't need to hold Bulma's and my hands for everything. You clearly know when to ask questions when appropriate, as you did yesterday," the doctor insisted.

"I..." Vegeta stammered uncharacteristically. What could he say? What _was_ clear to him was that the older man wasn't aware of what had happened. No matter how he answered he would be stepping on someone's toes since he was calling from Bulma's office, presuming that she was also in the room. Anything he said would be either badmouthing her or contradicting the owner of the company. Dr. Briefs had made it clear that he wished to be called by his first name; however, how could he call him 'Shatsu' and call Bulma 'Ms. Briefs' in front of him since she'd made it clear that she wanted him to do so? He wanted Vegeta to run with this, and Bulma under no uncertain terms wanted him to have no part of it. His head spun. Why was this happening to him?

"Is something wrong, Son?" Dr. Briefs' voice interrupted his thoughts. "You seemed rather out of sorts today. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"No, no... I just have a lot on my mind," Vegeta responded carefully. "I will report there presently. Hina, could you please return here before I leave so that the office is not left unattended? I am anticipating an important phone call."

"Of course, Mr. Vegeta," Hina told him. "I'm on my way." She handed the clipboard to Dr. Briefs and left the office, shutting the door behind her.

"I, uhm, just wanted to let you know that Etsuko called," Vegeta spoke up. "Her son's school called and she may need to go there. I told her that if that is the case to bring Vegeta here on her way in. I know that Anya and Bunny are shopping so I will watch him. You needn't worry about it." Once again he avoided addressing Bulma directly, despite not having spoken to her at all yet, and the logical recipient of the statement being her.

"Oh. I hope it's nothing serious." Bulma spoke for the first time during the conversation.

"No, I think he did something naughty. She didn't seem very pleased. Regardless, it shouldn't hurt anything if she drops the baby off here. I can mind him. He's a good boy." Vegeta's voice softened, and she could hear the pride in his statement. "Hina is here. I will be there shortly." The call disconnected.

The room was silent for a moment. "Daddy, I-"

"I know. I weaseled it out of Nuiko," Dr. Briefs interrupted. "I truly believe that he let this slide because he cares for you and doesn't want to hurt you."

Bulma's eyes filled with tears. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered.

"How about listening to what he has to say before you jump to conclusions," her father suggested, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "You know he is a proud person, yet I've never seen him look that way before. I _don't _want it to happen again and I expect that you will make things right."

Bulma nodded and grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk. "Oh, Daddy... what should I do? This isn't just some random employee."

"I think you know the answer to that," Dr. Briefs responded gently. "Now, shhh. He's on his way here." He got up from his chair and opened the door.

"Daddy?"

He turned back to her. "Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I know he's upset and probably doesn't want to see me, but please ask him to come in before he leaves," Bulma requested in an almost timid manner.

He nodded. "I'll do that." He shut the door behind him.

Bulma sighed and dabbed at her face. "Oh, Vegeta... I'm sorry."

* * *

"Sign at the 'X' please, Sir." Vegeta could feel all eyes upon him as he accepted the clipboard from the Itou Chemicals Industrial employee and signed it, then handed it back. The employee tore off a copy and handed it to him. "Thank you. Have a good one."

"Thanks. You too," Vegeta responded as the man left. He suppressed a sigh and looked down at the delivery acknowledgment in his hand. He'd been tempted to sign his name and add 'for Bulma Briefs' or sign her name and initial it, but decided against it. Dr. Briefs had been adamant that he had no problem with him receiving the order, in front of Bulma herself, no less, and he didn't want to undermine the older man's direction. "Nuiko, I assume you will want to place this in your file." He held the paper out to her.

"Actually, you can give it to Bulma. Dr. Briefs told me as he was leaving to send you in because she wants to see you." As predicted, the Saiyan reacted ever so slightly before nodding to her.

_Now what else have I done? I only did what I was asked to do._ It hadn't occurred to him that Dr. Briefs might have said something to Bulma since he'd seemed pretty clueless during their conversation. He drew in a breath and knocked on her door.

"Come in," came Bulma's voice from inside the office.

He opened the door and stepped inside. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Please shut the door and have a seat," Bulma requested.

Vegeta did as she asked and looked at her expectantly, but said nothing.

"Is that the shipping receipt?" she asked.

"Yes, it is." Vegeta held the paper out to her.

She took it and slipped it into a file folder. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Silence.

"Vegeta, I..." Bulma sighed and bit at her lip. "Daddy told me what happened."

Evidently the doctor _had_ known what happened. "I see."

Silence.

She looked at him. He was looking past her shoulder at the wall, his face expressionless. "Vegeta, I should have listened to what you had to say this morning and I didn't. Instead, I said some hurtful and untrue things to you in front of Nuiko and Miwa. I'm very sorry for that."

He dropped his eyes and remained silent.

"Vegeta, please. This isn't easy for me, either. I feel terrible enough without you rejecting my apology," she continued in a shaky voice. "Please look at me."

Her stomach twisted when he shifted his gaze to her. His eyes were filled with sadness and hurt.

She swallowed, struggling to hold her emotions in check. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I should have known that you wouldn't just do something of your own accord. I mean, I trust you with my _life_. This is nowhere near that."

He only looked at her, still saying nothing.

Her eyes flooded with tears. "What else do I need to do or say to you to make you see that I feel terrible about how I treated you?" she cried.

Vegeta got up from his seat. "You have already said enough," he told her softly. He pulled her up from her seat and turned her to face him. "I know how you feel, believe me," he whispered.

She realized what he meant- he was referring to what he'd said to her the day he'd left for space. She began to cry in earnest then and nodded.

Vegeta sighed. "Why must I always make you cry?" he murmured, taking another tissue from her desk and tilting her chin up. He dabbed ever so gently at her cheeks. "Don't cry, Bulma. I hate seeing tears in those beautiful blue eyes." He guided her against his chest and held her close, caressing her hair.

She sniffled. "Thanks, Veggie," she whispered.

"I would do anything for you, Bulma. You know that," he murmured. "Anything." He kissed the top of her head, stealing the opportunity to breathe in her scent deeply. She always smelled so good. He missed that.

"I know," she told him in a muffled voice. "But I should have figured that there was something I didn't know and asked you about it. I mean, look at what you did for the Energy Technologies contract. You completely knocked my socks off with that one." She turned her head to rest it more comfortably upon his shoulder.

He curled his arm a little more snugly around her and continued to stroke her hair. "Yes, well, I didn't consult you on that one, either," he reminded her guiltily. "I didn't know the terms of the contract so I had Nuiko read it to me before I went in. I was a little surprised because considering the amount of time and effort you'd put into this contract I figured that you would have negotiated better terms than what you had. There was no time to call you and since you were so sick, I couldn't bear the thought of waking you even if there had been time. I knew I'd have to do something a little drastic since I wouldn't get something for nothing, but at least it worked out." He sighed. "I... I just wanted to do something special for you. You've always taken care of me, even though I'm an utter-"

Bulma pulled away enough to place her fingers over his lips. "Hey. None of that." She cupped his cheek. "You _did_ do something special for me," she whispered. "You gave me something very special."

Vegeta sighed and nestled his face against her palm. Oh, how he missed her gentle touch and loving caresses. "I could say the same of you," he countered. "I never thought I would have an heir, and here you have borne me a beautiful son. But that wasn't enough," he whispered, running his fingers through the length of her hair and playing with it as he used to do while she laid in his arms after lovemaking. "I am truly sorry for what happened between us, Bulma. I hope that someday you can accept my apology and..." He sighed again.

"I know. I'm sorry too," she whispered.

They stood together in silence.

He drew in a deep breath.

She unconsciously licked her lips and swallowed.

They drew closer together.

Their eyes slowly closed as their lips touched. It wasn't a hot, heavy kiss of passion. Instead, he gave her loving, gentle, sweet kisses that stole her breath away and left her weak and trembling in his arms. She gasped and let out a low moan when he nipped at her lower lip. His hands stroked up and down her back. Bulma was so moved that she felt like crying; Vegeta had always been passionate with her during times of intimacy between them, but she hadn't known that he could be so tender. Normally his kisses had been more demanding and insistent.

Vegeta gave her one last kiss, then moved to nuzzle her neck. "Bulma," he whispered, placing a kiss behind her earlobe. "I... I-"

The intercom on Bulma's phone beeped, interrupting him, and they both jumped. "I'd better answer that," she told him breathily. Regretfully, she pulled away from him and went over to the phone. "Yes?"

"Somebody's here to see you," Nuiko informed her.

"Okay..." There was another pause. Bulma wondered why her assistant was being so vague. "Nuiko, who's here?"

"Who do you hear?" Nuiko asked, as if she was prompting someone.

A little voice came over the speakerphone. "Mama!"

Bulma's face split into a wide smile. "Is that my baby boy I hear?" she cooed. "Mama's coming out now." She disconnected the call and rushed out of the office. "Hi Baby!" She scooped the little boy up from his carseat and cuddled him close.

Vegeta hadn't left Bulma's office yet and could hear her fussing over their son. "I love you," he whispered, finishing what he'd been about to say. It had been easier to say than he'd thought. Of course, no one had actually _heard_ him say it. But she would. She needed to. _He_ needed to. He sighed and left the office. "Hello, Etsuko."

"Vegeta, your assistant told me to bring him here. I'm so sorry about all of this," Etsuko apologized. She set VJ's diaper bag down. "That boy is going to get it big time for this, I assure you."

"It's not a problem, truly," Vegeta assured her. "You just go take care of your son. What did he do, anyway?"

Etsuko made a disgruntled face. "Trust me, you don't want to know," she insisted, "suffice to say that it involved the teachers' lounge and a bottle of rubber cement."

Vegeta laughed. Actually, he did want to know but wisely refrained from asking. "Too much like his old lady, huh?"

She blushed. "Oh, shut up."

"Hopefully this one will be like his mama too, and not his old man," Vegeta commented. "Hey, kiddo."

The baby beamed at his father and leaned toward him, his arms outstretched. "Da-ee!" he shrieked excitedly.

Vegeta held out his hands to his son, accepting the child from its disgruntled mother.

"Uh-oh! Looks like you've got competition, Bulma," Etsuko teased.

"Oh, he probably just smells the cookies I was eating," Vegeta commented in an effort to spare Bulma's dignity.

VJ had been playing with his father's tie and looked up at him with wide blue eyes. "Ooh, yum-yum!" he exclaimed.

Bulma eyed Vegeta with amusement. "You're right. You _should_ take him." She crossed her arms, and a smirk crept across her face.

Etsuko giggled. "Didn't you know that's one of the words you have to substitute around that boy?" she teased.

"Hmph. He'll be fine." Vegeta shifted the boy higher up in his arms. "I've minded my own son often enough to know how to handle him."

* * *

"Yum-yum, Da-ee!"

"Daddy's getting it," Vegeta responded for what seemed like the billionth time. He was trying to be patient with the boy, who had been badgering him ever since he'd heard the word 'cookies'. He poured some fresh coffee into his mug and stirred in a large amount of cream and sugar.

"Yum-yum! Yum-yum!" VJ had spotted the vending machine and the treats it contained.

"Daddy's getting it," Vegeta repeated. "Don't burst a blood vessel."

"Yum-yum yum-yum..." the boy babbled. Now that he'd really started talking, once he got going he chattered constantly.

"Yep." Vegeta reached into his pocket. Nothing. He shifted VJ to his free arm and tried his other pocket. Still nothing. "Well stinky boy, it looks like Daddy forgot to put any money in his pocket."

"Da-ee, yum-yum!" VJ began to sob.

Vegeta sighed. "Look, I'm sorry," he murmured, stroking the boy's hair. "I must have something yummy at my desk you can have. I'm sure as hell not asking your mother for any money," he grumbled under his breath.

"Did you need some change, Mr. Vegeta?" a feminine voice asked.

Vegeta turned to see Masami, Ume and Rika from Purchasing standing behind him. "No, thank you. That's all right. I'm sure I-"

VJ began to wail. "Yum-yum," he told his father mournfully. His large blue eyes pleaded with him.

Vegeta sighed again. "Son..." _Don't do that to me, boy._ "You get enough snacks."

"It's no problem, really." Ume dropped some coins into the machine. "What did you want, Cutie?" she asked the now happy baby.

"Yum-yum." VJ's chubby hand pressed against the glass of the machine.

"Thanks," Vegeta mumbled, embarrassed. "He would have thrown a fit if I'd have left to get some money." He removed his selection from the machine and sat down with his son, who was squirming with excitement. "You're spoiled," he accused the child.

The women giggled. "No problem at all," Ume assured him. She leaned down to address the boy seated on his father's lap. "You're just adorable," she cooed, tickled pink when the baby cooed back at her and wriggled happily.

"I need to edit my statement," Vegeta decided. "You're spoiled _and_ a flirt."

They giggled some more and sat down at the table with their coffees.

VJ suddenly looked shy. "Hi," he said bashfully, earning another round of giggles from the group of infatuated young women.

* * *

"Hey!"

Vegeta turned. "Hey," he repeated softly.

"Where's VJ?" Bulma asked as she approached him in the hallway.

"Don't worry, he's fine," he assured her. "I needed to use the men's room, so a couple of ladies from Purchasing said they'd keep an eye on him for a couple of minutes."

"Oh." Bulma followed Vegeta, who promptly made a beeline to pour himself still another cup of coffee, into the employee lounge. One of the aforementioned women was holding her son, who was happily gumming on a sugar-laden cookie. "Hi, baby!"

"Yum-yum Mama!" The baby beamed at her and held up his cookie.

"I see!" Bulma responded. "Is that tasty?"

"Uh-huh."

Bulma pretended to be impressed. "Wow, it even has frosting. How nice! Who gave you the cookie?" Bulma prompted.

"Da-ee!" VJ squealed excitedly.

The women continued to giggle with delight. "Ms. Briefs, your little boy is the biggest sweetheart," Rika told her solemnly. "He's also the most attractive baby I've seen in a long time."

"Thank you," Bulma responded with a smile. "He's my pride and joy, aren't you baby boy?" She blew him a kiss.

VJ cooed happily at his mother. "Love love Mama."

Vegeta stirred his coffee and suppressed a sigh. They were still giggling. _That should've been _my_ line._ He paused. _Sort of._

"Oh! Mama loves you too, baby boy." Now it was Bulma's turn to pause. "So much for hoping he acts like his mother," she said dryly. "Have fun." She left the lounge.

There was a surprised gasp followed by more giggles from the group of women. Vegeta turned to see what his son was doing and nearly spit his coffee across the room. "You are too young for that," he informed his mischievous young son, who was taking far too many liberties with Rika's low cut blouse. He retrieved the boy, unable to keep from blushing. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay. He didn't mean any harm," she told him. A broad smile spread over her face. "He's just adorable."

"Thank you," Vegeta responded, relieved that the woman hadn't been offended.

Another employee entered the lounge. "Oh! Mr. Vegeta, is this your son?" She came over to coo at the baby.

"Yes, this is my son Vegeta," he acknowledged proudly.

"Can't you tell, Kotone? He looks just like his daddy," Masami pointed out.

"Yes, you do," Kotone told the boy. Her eyes moved over from the baby to its father. "Lucky you."

Vegeta couldn't hold back a blush, and Ume decided to take pity on him. "How old is he, Mr. Vegeta?"

Vegeta found himself grateful for the change of subject. "He's nine months old."

"Awww... Do you have any other children?" Kotone asked.

"No, just Vegeta." He couldn't hold back a smile when the baby rested his head on his shoulder and began to suck his thumb contentedly.

"He's such a sweet baby." Kotone had inquired and heard through the grapevine that Vegeta was currently single, which she had been delighted to hear. "Are you planning on giving him any brothers or sisters?" she asked, not quite getting the point that they had changed of the topic of conversation.

"Absolutely," he told them. He turned his son to face them, simply beaming with pride. "I mean, look at this little man. Who wouldn't want a dozen just like him?" Vegeta answered, surprising the three women from the lab. Knowing the history of the child's parents, they had expected that he would have recoiled at the question.

"Really? I think that's sweet," Kotone commented. "Although I don't know how well your wife would go for that."

"I..." Vegeta had no idea what to say, especially when VJ sat up straighter in his arms.

"Mama!" the boy exclaimed, reaching out with one hand and opening and closing it rapidly in a child's gesture of greeting.

Bulma had come back to the lounge, some coins in her hand. "Hi, baby." She stroked her son's hair. "I thought the cookies you were feeding him looked good, so I was going to get some for myself."

_Damn it! How much did she hear? That's what I get for fraternizing with motor-mouth employees._ "I... I think this is the last bag," Vegeta managed. _Although, if she did hear the conversation, maybe she will know that my feelings toward having children with her have changed._

"Oh." Bulma peered inside the machine, maintaining her composure. "You're right."

"I think he's done if you want the rest," Vegeta offered. "He only ate one of them."

"No, that's okay," Bulma declined politely. "Oh, by the way, Mom and Daddy's flight got delayed, so they won't be leaving until late. Mom's making dinner tonight so we won't have to order out. Thought you might like to know."

Vegeta nodded. "Thanks."

"Well, I think our break is over, girls," Masami spoke up, breaking the awkward feeling in the room. "Bye-bye, Sweetie." She waved to the baby as she and her two coworkers left.

"I should go, too," Vegeta murmured. He grabbed his coffee and left the lounge with the baby.

Kotone had been silent until now. "You're his baby's mother, Ms. Briefs?"

Bulma sized the girl up. "You're new here, aren't you, Ms...?"

"Ishikawa," the suddenly nervous young woman stammered.

"Ah, yes. You're the new employee in Marketing. Well, Ms. Ishikawa, how do you like it here so far?" Bulma asked pleasantly.

"I like it very much. Everyone is very nice and everything good I've heard about working here is true," Kotone told her.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear it." Bulma shrugged and picked up a cookie. "Waste not, want not I suppose. Help yourself to a cookie." She turned when she got to the doorway. "Oh, and Ms. Ishikawa?"

"Yes, Ms. Briefs?" she asked in a small voice.

"Trust me when I tell you that not only are you _not_ his type, but he doesn't respond to that type of flirting. He's a very private person, and very protective of that privacy. He _does_ respond well to genuinely offered respect and dignified manners, so I'd hang back for awhile if I were you," Bulma counseled. She had been reminded of that herself hardly half an hour ago.

The girl blushed. "Thank you, Ms. Briefs," she said meekly.

Bulma nodded and left the lounge.

Kotone let out her breath and sank down into a chair. She rested her forehead in the palm of one hand tiredly. "Why not?" she muttered, taking a cookie.

* * *

Vegeta trudged into the house and wriggled out of his coat. Mrs. Briefs had insisted upon picking up VJ when she had found out that Vegeta was watching him so he hadn't minded his son for very long, but he was still tired from the day.

He hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes, then slipped on a pair of houseshoes before making his way to the kitchen. The family was sitting around the table eating dessert when he entered.

"Oh, Vegeta! You look so tired, Dear," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, abandoning her food and getting a large container full of leftovers from the refrigerator.

Vegeta nodded and sank down into his seat. He knew all about being tired from training, but this was a completely different type of fatigue. "I had a few phone calls from crabby, bitchy people today," he grumbled. Then I had to deal with an employee caught stealing, and some mistakes made while building the addition..." He sighed. "I'm sure you don't want to hear the rest of the sob story."

"That's rough, Pops," Anya said sympathetically.

"You poor dear," Mrs. Briefs told him, placing the container into the microwave. "I tried to hold up dinner for you, but the turkey was starting to get a little dry."

Vegeta perked up immediately. "I thought I smelled turkey dinner," he told her.

"Oh my, yes," Mrs. Briefs agreed. "Shatsu said you seemed to be having a rough day, so I made your favorite meal."

Not wanting to embarrass Bulma, he kept his gaze trained on Mrs. Briefs. "You're the best, Bunny." He grinned at her as she giggled and proclaimed him to be such a dear young man. He'd found her giggling to be annoying at first, but after getting to know her better, he found it to be pleasant to be able to make her laugh despite the pain she felt over her daughter's boyfriend. "So, Bulma. Want the sucky part of your job back?" he joked half seriously, looking at Bulma out of the corner of his eye.

Everyone laughed. "Noooo... That's quite all right," Bulma assured him, making everyone laugh some more.

He let his eyes twinkle at her as Mrs. Briefs brought him his dinner. "Thank you, Bunny."

Bulma couldn't help but feel warm all over because of the way he was looking at her. She'd always wished he would have before, and now she didn't quite know how to think. Added to that, she was grateful that he'd let what happened between them earlier that day drop, when he could have made a big deal over it.

Most of all, she'd overheard his declaration of wanting a dozen children, which, while she was sure he couldn't be serious about the number, she could only assume he meant was with her. Despite him continually either stating or hinting that he wanted her, it had taken her by surprise and, she was forced to admit, had aroused her. She hadn't realized that he'd felt that way.

Again, she wasn't sure what to think.

Hiroshi didn't want children.

"Bulma!"

Bulma shook out of her trance. "Huh?"

"I was just asking if you were done with your pie, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told her.

"Uhm, yeah... Just spaced out a little, that's all." Bulma pushed the plate containing her half-eaten slice of pie toward her mother.

Vegeta made a noise of objection before swallowing. "I'll finish it," he told Mrs. Briefs before she could remove the plate.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Just like old times," she intoned softly.

Bulma got up from her seat. Her mother was referring to the time Vegeta had finished not only her pie but the rest of what was left of both pies her mother had made along with an entire box of ice cream. Vegeta had frequently finished Bulma's food when she couldn't, not leaving anything to waste. She sighed and got up from her chair. "Guess I'll turn in. Good night, everyone."

"It's early but I'm tired," Anya agreed. "We'll head up, too." She scooped up her dozing son from his high chair and took Geta's hand. "Good night."

"Good night, kids," Dr. Briefs called after them. He eyed Vegeta speculatively but decided to keep quiet, knowing how private the boy was.

Vegeta finished his meal and brought the container over to the sink. "Delicious as always. Need any help, Bunny?" he asked, indicating the large roaster pan and several heavy looking pots.

"Oh, no Dear," she responded, "but it was sweet of you to ask. You look so tired. Maybe you should get some sleep, too."

Vegeta nodded. "Good night, Bunny, Shatsu."

"Good night, Dear." Mrs. Briefs waited until the kitchen door shut. "What happened, Shatsu?"

Dr. Briefs sighed, not at all surprised by how perceptive his wife was. "Just a little misunderstanding between Bulma and him that turned ugly. I wouldn't press him on it."

Mrs. Briefs frowned. "That bad, huh? The poor dear."

* * *

Vegeta opened his closet and took a thin box from the shelf. It was wrapped in silver paper with a shimmery silver bow on top. He went out into the darkened hallway and over to the very familiar door he had once called his own. Drawing in a deep breath, he knocked lightly on the door.

Momentarily, footsteps approached and the door opened. "Vegeta?"

"Hey."

"Hey." Bulma tilted her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Vegeta paused. "Would it be all right if I, uhm..." He shifted a little uneasily on his feet. "I feel a little weird standing in the hallway." He didn't know if he should be hinting like this, but which was worse- inviting her to his room, doing what he was about to do in the middle of the hallway for all to observe, or inviting himself in?

"Oh! I'm sorry. Come in." Bulma stepped aside so he could walk past and shut the door behind him, feeling a little nervous as he did so. "What's up?"

Vegeta hadn't been in this room since he'd broken down her door and saw her in the shower. "I, ah, wanted to give you this." He handed her the box.

Bulma looked up from the neatly decorated box to him. "This is for me?"

Vegeta nodded. "Open it." He indicated the box with a tilt of his head. He kept his gaze away from her, as she was wearing pajama bottoms and a clingy white t-shirt.

Bulma examined the box. "My birthday isn't for a few more days."

"I know. But I went to the mall myself to find this, and I... I wanted you to have it now."

A slow smile spread over Bulma's face. "_You_ braved the mall to get me a present?"

Vegeta scowled a little. "Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn box if you're going to."

She giggled a little and carefully peeled the tape from the paper. "Okay, what do we have here?" She lifted the lid.

"I made the saleswoman try it on," Vegeta told her as she removed his purchase out of the box. "She assured me that it's warm and quite cozy." He snorted. "Cozy."

Bulma looked up from the sapphire blue hooded sweatshirt to him. "I love it. Thank you." She came over to him and gave him a hug.

He returned the hug awkwardly. Gods, he couldn't do this. This was a bad idea. She felt so good against him. "You're welcome," he murmured. "I'm glad you like it."

Bulma crossed her arms, making the situation even worse. "You're acting so weird. What's the matter with you?"

"I told you, nothing. Other than the fact that it's obviously a little chilly in here."

Bulma blushed when she realized what he meant. "Too many memories," she murmured. She slipped the shirt over her head and pulled up the hood. It fit perfectly. "Well? How does it look?"

He looked up at her and drew in his breath. "Yes, too many memories." He smiled sadly at her. "I'm reminded of the time it was snowing and you came out to the GR to get me," he said quietly. "You had that big hood on, and a lock of your hair was poking out from beneath it, just as it is now." He reached out to tuck the errant strands behind her ear, unconsciously swallowing as he did so. He wanted so badly to guide her back over to the bed-

He shook his head to clear it. No, he couldn't deal with this tonight. "Good night, Bulma."

"Good night, Vegeta." She watched him go and sat down on the bed, hugging her arms around herself. "Good night."


	22. Chapter 22

AN: I don't really have anything new to say this time except what I've been saying lately: more changes are happening. Expect a lot of them. Big ones. So stay tuned, trust me. You ain't seen nothing yet.

One thing I will say about this chapter in particular, however, is that it is one of the rare instances I mentioned before in which I will sneak in actual Japanese for the specific reason of differentiating between the two "Standard" languages, or between Standard and another language. (The first time you saw it was in Chapter 18, when Geta is examining the Gerdian armor.) I don't speak Japanese, so for those of you who are fluent, please forgive me if I failed to find an accurate translation while keeping it simple. Let me know if you know a better one. I will give the intended translation at the end of the chapter.

I want to give a big thanks to everyone who reviewed. Keep 'em coming! This one's for PrincessofSaiyans. Please don't die! This chapter is for you!

Thanks to my better half for looking this over for me as always. :)

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Well, looks like it's just us this morning, boys," Vegeta murmured. At least he'd gotten a couple hours of weight lifting in before they'd woken up. It was his responsibility to watch them that morning, as the elder Briefs were on their weekend trip, Bulma had taken the rare opportunity to sleep in a little, and Geta had taken Anya to her physician for an early morning prenatal checkup. This Geta did despite being quite able to tell that his unborn daughter was in perfect health, as was her mother. Vegeta held back a sigh. Bulma had insisted upon the same thing during her pregnancy even after she'd been assured there was no further danger to the unborn baby she carried, but then again, Vegeta hadn't taken much interest in his son until after he'd returned from space. He pushed the despondent thoughts aside in favor of the two children before him.

Two pairs of huge blue eyes looked up at him from their respective cribs. "Okay, Ganpa!" Vegeta didn't seem too concerned, but then his expression changed. "I hungee!"

"You're hungry? Grandpa's hungry, too. Let's get you two dressed and then we'll go get something to eat," Vegeta acknowledged the boy.

VJ pulled himself upright using the side of the crib. "Da-ee!" He got his balance and held his arms out. "Da-ee! Uh!"

Vegeta couldn't help but smile. "You want up, huh?" He scooped VJ up and was reaching down for his grandson when a look of extreme concentration spread over his son's face, followed by a noise and an awful smell.

"Oh, great," Vegeta muttered, standing back up and trying to keep from gagging. "Thanks for the present, kid."

* * *

Vegeta hurriedly pulled on a clean pair of jeans, nearly losing his balance in the process. He'd managed to get both boys cleaned up and dressed in record time. Now he was attempting to do the same for himself without all hell breaking loose in the meantime. He had put them both in the playpen in the nursery, but neither of the two children was one that could be left unattended for more than two seconds without a catastrophe taking place. The babbles from the other room were getting consistently louder, meaning that neither child wanted to be in that playpen, nor probably would be for much longer.

"Ganpa!" came the insistent little voice of his grandson. _"Hungee!"_

"Okay, I'm coming," Vegeta muttered, pulling on a pair of shoes. As he headed for the nursery, he paused by Bulma's door and placed his ear to it. Detecting that her breathing was deep and even and equating that to her still being asleep, he moved on. Scooping up the children and a capsule car he knew contained car seats, he hastily scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen countertop before heading out.

* * *

"Good morning, and welcome to the Interglobal Waffle Place. How many of you today?" the hostess asked.

"Just me and two children's seats," Vegeta responded, noting the looks he was noticing from a couple of young women also waiting to be seated. 'Cute' and 'sweet' were two of the words he heard as they whispered and giggled to each other. 'Hunk' was another one, and he was positive they were not referring to the children in this instance.

"Will that be smoking or non?" the hostess asked.

"Non." Vegeta scowled. "I have two babies with me," he objected. Maybe he defiled his own body with the horrible cancer sticks he smoked, but that didn't mean he would allow his son and grandson to be exposed to the same.

"Yes, of course," the hostess told him, grabbing a menu. "But not everyone shares your view on that, so I have to ask. Right this way, Sir," she said, leading him to a table.

Vegeta felt a little guilty for giving her a hard time for just doing her job, especially since he was doing more than his share of smoking lately to calm his nerves, but he _never_ smoked around either of the children. "Sure, sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she assured him, smiling as she laid everything out for him on the table. "It's nice to see a man who cares so much about his children." She smiled at him, and her eyes dropped down for a moment, then back up, and he realized she had checked out his left hand.

"Uhm, yeah..." _Forward little thing,_ he thought, managing back a blush. Did all women find a man with a baby attractive?

"Yaeko will be your server today. She'll bring you their seats. Enjoy your meal." She leaned down, showing off a nice amount of cleavage. "Bye-bye, cuties," she cooed and waved to the two little boys on his lap. She gave Vegeta one more quick glance and a smile before leaving.

This time Vegeta couldn't help but turn a little pink at her blatant flirting. He grabbed the menu and whipped it open. Fortunately there were plenty of pictured items and he'd already been here with Gohan, so he wasn't left completely in the dark as to the contents of the menu.

"Ganpa,_ hungee!_" Vegeta reminded him insistently.

"I know, I'm hungry too. When the lady gets here, I'll order us some food, okay?" Vegeta grumbled.

"That's him over there at table seven, the one with the two babies. He needs high chairs for them." Despite the chatter of the other diners and her quiet voice, Vegeta's keen ears picked up on the conversation between the hostess and the woman to be his server.

"You mean the heartthrob in the blue shirt?" the other woman whispered. "Dear Kami have mercy..."

"No kidding. I wish you were hostess today. _Damn,_ he's fine. I wouldn't mind serving him, and not just food." She giggled. "I snuck a look but I didn't see a ring."

The second woman giggled as well. "Oooh... I wonder if he's available," she whispered back.

"I _dare _you to ask," the hostess challenged.

"Well, if I do and he is, _I _get first dibs."

Vegeta glued his eyes to the menu, willing his face not to turn red. He noted the menu wiggling and looked down. Sighing, he retrieved the corner of one page from his son's mouth. "Vegeta, no-no. That's dirty."

The baby's eyes pinched shut and his face turned beet red as he prepared to let out a scream of outrage.

_Oh, great. Not here, not now!_ Vegeta cringed. "Shh! Don't scream," he murmured to the angry child. "Daddy will get you some food soon." It didn't seem to be working; VJ was holding his breath and his little fists were clenched. Vegeta could tell his son was definitely winding up to pitch a fit, and it was simply a matter of seconds before all hell really did break loose and the child would let out a loud, ear-piercing scream. The restaurant was packed with patrons and he did _not_ want to be one of those parents whose baby screamed the entire meal, earning looks of disgust from the other diners.

Thinking quickly, Vegeta licked his finger to clean it, figuring that was better than nothing, and stuck it in the boy's mouth, effectively quieting him. He ignored the sharp little teeth gnawing on his finger, relieved that it was placating the boy for the moment and cursing himself for forgetting a bottle, or even a pacifier.

He heard a chuckle and looked up as the woman who had been talking to the hostess approached his table. "Well, hello there cuties. Looks like someone's either hungry, teething or both," she commented with a smile. "I'm Yaeko and I'll be your server today." She set down a high chair next to Vegeta and thanked a young man who had brought a second one. "Would you like me to take one of them for you?"

"Please," Vegeta responded wearily. He never expected to be willingly handing over his grandson- who happened to be closest to her _and_ not chewing on his finger- to a complete stranger, but she seemed harmless enough.

Looks could be deceptive.

"Hello there, Sweetie," she cooed, lifting Vegeta up and buckling him into the seat.

He looked at her shyly, one finger at his mouth. "Hi."

Yaeko burst into peals of giggles. "Oh, aren't you adorable!"

"Fank you," Vegeta responded, beginning to warm up to the woman. "You pwetty."

She laughed again. "Aww, thank you! What a little charmer!" She turned her attention to the baby Vegeta was securing into the second chair. "And aren't you a precious little guy?" she asked, leaning down.

VJ looked up at her with wide blue eyes, then gave her a huge, mostly toothless smile. "Oooh, ba-ba!" he exclaimed, his hand waving towards her partially exposed cleavage.

Vegeta went beet red and snatched his son's hand away. The boy had been doing far too much of that lately. But for the love of Kami, who could blame the child this time, given what these employees were required to wear anyway? "I, uh... Sorry about that."

"Oh, he didn't mean any harm," Yaeko said innocently, straightening up. She smiled. "Will you be needing an extra menu for your wife when she arrives?"

Vegeta froze for an instant, then finished with the baby. "I'm, uhm, not married," he murmured, going a little pink. The number of times he had been blushing was becoming disgusting! _Why are all of these women hitting on me?_

Her smile widened briefly. "Oh. Well, can I get you something to drink to start off with?" she asked, inwardly bouncing up and down with glee. _This hottie isn't married!_

"Coffee," he responded. "Just bring the pot."

Her eyebrow rose. He _did_ look tired. "Sure. Anything for the children?"

"Some warm milk. Do you have apple juice?"

"That I do," Yaeko confirmed cheerfully. "I'll bring some of both."

"Da-ee!" VJ was beginning to fidget.

"Yes, yes, Son. Daddy's getting breakfast. How quickly can I get a bowl of some sort of hot cereal for them to eat until the rest of the food gets here?" Vegeta asked, trying not to seem too desperate.

"I'll bring it with your beverages," she responded with a smile, trotting off to the kitchen.

Vegeta sighed and leaned back in his seat. _Why is this so damn difficult? It's just breakfast and they're just babies._ "Hmph." He picked up the menu again. Most everything in the pictures looked good to him, so he figured he'd just order things that he knew for sure what they were. The smells of the food emanating from passing waitstaff's trays and overhearing other people ordering also helped clue him in on what else was available on the menu.

After a few minutes Yaeko returned with a carafe of coffee, a mug of warm milk, a cup of juice and a bowl of oatmeal. She set it all in front of Vegeta. "There you go."

Both boys began whimpering and kicking their little legs at the sight of the food on the table.

"Okay, calm down," Vegeta said, shaking his head. "You two certainly aren't starving." He scooped out a spoonful of the oatmeal, blew on it, and fed it to his grandson, who promptly wrinkled up his nose.

"Yucky!" the boy declared, crossing his arms and turning his head away in what Vegeta realized was a near perfect imitation of him.

Vegeta snorted. "Well, you won't get anything else until Grandpa's food comes, so you'd better decide to like it." He put a small amount of oatmeal on the tip of the spoon and fed it to the infant on his other side, who quickly gobbled it up. "See? Even a little _baby_ is eating it." He tsked and shook his head. "I thought you were such a big boy, too," he said, pretending to sound disappointed.

"_Am_ big boy!" his grandson objected, pouting. "Want!"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Will you eat it?" he asked, giving VJ another little spoonful.

Little Vegeta contemplated this. "Okay," he decided.

Yaeko laughed. "I'm sorry, he's just so cute," she said apologetically. "What can I get for you?"

Vegeta glanced down at the menu briefly before continuing to feed the children on either side of him. "I'll take a tall stack of blueberry pancakes and a short stack of buttermilk pancakes, two Belgian waffles, one with strawberries and whipped cream and the other with peaches and ice cream, the cinnamon raisin french toast, the everything omelette with absolutely _no_ green peppers, hash browns, sausage links, brown sugar ham, bacon, and fried apples." He glanced up at Yaeko, who was scribbling furiously. "Are you getting all of this?"

"Mmm-hmm. Did you want either grits or biscuits with that?" She looked up from her order pad. "It comes with either or both."

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta shrugged. "Also the eggs Benedict, a piece of the bacon, egg and cheese breakfast casserole, some sausage gravy, and a big dish of fresh fruit. Oh, and throw some pastries and a loaf of banana bread on there. You like banana bread, Vegeta, remember?"

"Mmm!" the little boy hummed in agreement, licking his lips. "Mama make yummy!"

"Yes, she does." Vegeta glanced down at the menu again. "Oh, steak and eggs. I forgot about that."

Yaeko took it all in stride. "How would you like your steak?"

"Rare."

"Eggs?"

"Poached."

"I can do basted. Is that all right?"

"Sure, sure. Vegeta, stop kicking Grandpa."

"What kind of toast?"

"Rye."

"More hash browns?"

"How about corned beef hash?"

"You got it." She looked up at him skeptically. "Anything else?" she teased.

"Is this the place with the fried green tomatoes I've been hearing about?"

She let out a disbelieving laugh. "Yes. I'll add them on." She leaned in a little closer. "Okay, are you for real here or just pulling my leg?"

Before he could respond, Vegeta's phone made a noise he recognized as indication of a new text message. "Hold on one second," he requested. "I'm for real... okay, double my order and throw on another order of french toast besides. Looks like my other son and his wife are on their way." He grinned at the astonished waitress.

"Da-ee!" VJ waved his arms at his father.

"Ganpa, baby Veeta hungee," little Vegeta informed his grandfather solemnly.

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "You mean _you're _hungry, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Vegeta gave the boy a smirk of amusement as Yaeko giggled. The children _were_ cute, he had to admit. "Well, if you can hold your horses for a bit, we'll have plenty of food coming, okay?" he told the hungry little boy as he rapidly texted his response.

Little Vegeta huffed a sigh of reluctant acceptance. "Okay," he finally agreed.

"Da-eeeeee..."

"Daddy's getting us food," Vegeta responded, slipping his phone back into its case. "Some orange juice and another coffee mug. I think that's everything," he told Yaeko, who was smiling at the children as she waited.

"Sure thing. I'll put this in right away." Yaeko rushed off, whispered something he didn't catch to the passing hostess briefly, and headed for the kitchen.

Vegeta had to wonder what exactly she was saying this time. His thought was answered, at least in part, when a couple other employees came over, cleaned up a table which had just been vacated, and pushed it and some chairs over to the one he and the children were sitting at.

"Here you go, Sir," one of them said. "Let one of us know if you need anything else."

Vegeta nodded. "Thanks."

"Ganpa, is Da! Is Mama!" little Vegeta exclaimed, having seen his parents approaching.

"So it is," Vegeta agreed, holding in a laugh as his son approached and the employee's eyes grew wide at the sight of the much taller man. "Hello, Geta, Anya."

"Hey, Father," Geta responded as he and Anya settled down at the table. "You did order already, right?"

"I hope so. His stomach's been growling for the past hour," Anya supplied.

Geta shifted in his chair. "I'm hungry!" he objected, sore at being poked fun at for probably the hundredth time.

Vegeta let out an amused noise as the last employee scuttled off, no doubt to assure the cooks that the order they'd just gotten was indeed real. "Yes, I did. No worries, we've got plenty of food coming."

"DA-EE!" VJ shrieked, making several heads turn.

Vegeta turned to his son and let out a hiss of disapproval, holding up his finger for emphasis. "Daddy ordered food, so you stop that this instant," he reprimanded the boy.

VJ pouted and let out a huff of defiance. "Wan num-num."

"Yes, I know. The food will be here soon." Vegeta ran his hand over his son's soft hair. "I also know that you are able to be nice until then, right?"

"Okay, Da-ee," the boy conceded.

Anya giggled. "Poor little baby," she crooned.

"Baby Veeta hungee, Mama," Vegeta told his mother, as if she hadn't already grasped the concept herself.

"Yes, I see," Anya acknowledged.

Geta reached over to grasp his wife's hand. "Vegeta, the baby in Mama's tummy is growing bigger and bigger," he announced, unable to keep a silly proud grin off his face. "Soon you'll have a baby sister. How about that, hmm?"

The boy wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Icky!"

Both of his parents laughed, and even Vegeta smirked at the boy. "Hey, do you think Mama is icky?" Geta asked in amusement. "What about Grandma or Gram? Or Miss Etsuko?"

Vegeta considered this. "Well... No icky."

"Some girls are icky," Vegeta supplied, earning himself The Look from his grandson's parents, "but there are lots of them who aren't, like your mama and Grandma and Gram. Since your mama is having your sister, I'm sure she won't be icky." He straightened up as Yaeko approached the table with a heavily laden tray of food.

"Okay- nana bwead!" Vegeta exclaimed upon seeing one of his favorite yummies, bouncing in his seat.

Yaeko took the newest occupants of the table in stride as she opened up a portable holder for the tray, which she set upon it. "Yes, I have banana bread with me," she agreed. "What a smart little boy you are."

The boy sat up straight in his high chair, puffing out his chest in indignance. "Am _big _boy," he informed the obviously unknowing waitress.

Yaeko giggled. "Wow, look at you," she commented as she set fruit and baked goods onto the table. "Kami, you're cute."

"We say 'thank you'," Anya prompted, although anyone could see that the proud young mother herself meant it just as much.

"Fank you, pwetty lady," the boy said, pleased when the lady seemed happy by what he'd said.

"They're working as fast as possible to get out your food," Yaeko assured her hungry customers. "I'll bring it out as it's ready." She spied the two men. "You're really serious about all that food, aren't you?"

Part way through her question, Geta's stomach rumbled louder than she'd ever heard one rumble before, quickly followed by Vegeta's. Anya gave the wide-eyed waitress an amused look. "Very serious, I assure you. This one," she continued, nodding toward Vegeta with her chin, "ate three bellyaches and one of every dessert _including _an avalanche in one sitting at Buffalo Bob's once, then ate a full-blown turkey dinner a few hours later."

"Holy cow." Yaeko could tell that Anya was serious by the smug look on Vegeta's face. "I'll tell them to hurry up with your order."

* * *

Vegeta situated both children into the back seat of the car. "That sure hit the spot, didn't it?" he commented as he closed the door.

Anya giggled. "Oh, the look on her face was priceless when you wanted to place another order," she added. "Good thing you told her it wasn't for you."

Vegeta chuckled. "I could have fit more. Hey, calm down in there, will you?" he instructed the two restless occupants of the car.

"Ganpa, gotta potty!" Vegeta yelled.

Vegeta gave Anya and Geta a crooked smile. "Great. See you at home later." He got into the car and drove off.

Anya winced as the car fishtailed as it turned onto the street with a screech of its tires. "Pops... Well, I at least have to say that I'm pleasantly surprised by how easily that came out of his mouth."

Geta rewound his memory a few seconds until he remembered what his father had said, despite everything that had happened in the past few months.

_See you at home._

Geta smiled and curled an arm around his wife. His father probably hadn't even realized how he'd referred to Capsule Corp, and it warmed his heart as well that Vegeta thought of it as his home. "Me too, Baby." He kissed the top of her head and lead her to their car.

* * *

Vegeta pushed the back door open with his foot, a child in each arm. "Hey, Bulma!" he called, hearing noise come from beyond the kitchen. "I brought you breakfast." He put both boys down to take off their coats.

Bulma came into the kitchen, only to be followed by the only individual Vegeta could honestly say he hated as much as he'd hated Frieza. "Hi babies!" She leaned over to kiss each child. "What did you get me, Vegeta?" she asked expectantly.

"What, they get kisses but not the guy who brings you food?" Vegeta complained, inwardly pleased when Hiroshi shot him a dirty look.

Bulma's cheeks flushed pink, and he wondered if he would have gotten at least a peck on the cheek if her disgusting boyfriend hadn't been present. "Vegeta, really."

"Yeah, yeah. Here." Vegeta dug a capsule out of his pocket and opened it on the counter, making wonderful smells come out.

Bulma leaned over to smell her food, the scents of raspberries and crispy bacon hitting her nose. "Ooh, crêpes! Thanks." She paused. "Did you want some, Hiroshi?"

Hiroshi wrinkled his nose in distaste. "No, I hate pancakes," he announced.

"Okay." Bulma paused again.

"You'd better eat that before it gets cold," Vegeta told her. "The world won't stop turning if he waits ten minutes for you." He gathered the boys' coats up in one arm and VJ in the other. "Come with Grandpa, Vegeta," he prompted, not acknowledging Hiroshi as they passed by. "Enjoy the crêpes, Bulma."

"Oh, Vegeta? I'm leaving for my birthday vacation tomorrow. Do you think you'll be able to handle a few meetings for me while I'm gone?" Bulma spoke up.

Vegeta paused in the doorway. "You're going on vacation? I hadn't heard. Someplace warm, I hope."

Bulma was grateful he hadn't made a big deal of not being informed. "Yep, blue skies and a sandy beach," she agreed. "I'll be gone for two weeks. Just have Nuiko send you my appointments and if you can't do one she can reschedule it or Daddy can help."

"Gotta potty, Ganpa!" their grandson reminded him. He'd now begun to squirm, his hands crossed over his groin.

"That's fine, Bulma," Vegeta told her in a level voice. "Have a good time."

"Vegeta..." Bulma sighed when he kept walking. "I guess I should have told him sooner."

"Oh, the world's not going to stop turning if he doesn't know everything," Hiroshi said sarcastically. "It's not as though it's any of his business anyway what you do with your time." He put an arm around her shoulders. "Didn't you say you wanted a new sundress before you leave? Let's go find you one." He steered her toward the door. "Grab your coat and we'll get out of here."

"But..." Bulma eyed the crêpes on the counter as Hiroshi guided her from the kitchen.

* * *

Vegeta looked up from his easel at the two children asleep on his bed and sighed. Mrs. Briefs had been correct- art did help relieve his stress. He set the charcoal in his hand down on the edge of the easel and wiped the gray dust on his fingers on his jeans. He knew that Hiroshi had herded Bulma out if the house without giving her time to eat, as he'd found his offering cold and stale on the counter when he'd gone back to the kitchen to get lunch. _Stupid bastard. At least she'll be away from him for two weeks._

He glanced at the phone number written along with Yaeko's name on the credit card receipt from breakfast and sighed again. He didn't want Yaeko or Rikae or any of the multitude of women who'd slipped him their numbers. He just wanted _her_. But he couldn't have her.

Tossing the receipt into the trash, Vegeta carefully scooped up the two children and placed them into their respective cribs before heading down the stairs. Anya and Geta were making a day of it so they weren't home yet. The house seemed so quiet and empty, which unnerved him for some reason he couldn't put his finger on.

Vegeta went into the den and tossed an oversized beanbag down in front of the television. "Maybe kicking some flunky ass will make me feel better," he muttered, flopping down onto the beanbag and pulling out one of his favorite video games.

* * *

Bulma placed the capsule containing her luggage into her pocket and headed downstairs. The kids were asleep, so she decided to say goodbye to Vegeta and get going. Anya and Geta were still out, so she figured he must be home to watch the children.

The house was quiet save for sounds coming from the den. She opened the door and stepped inside. "Vegeta?"

Sonic landed on a spike, sending rings scattering everywhere. Vegeta paused the game and turned to give her a mildly irritated look. "That's not the first time you've done that to me, you know," he said dryly. "When did you get back? I didn't know you were home."

She giggled and came into the room further. "Just a few minutes ago. And just because you're easily distracted doesn't mean you can blame me," she informed him, plopping down onto the beanbag beside him.

Vegeta inhaled deeply. How could she honestly not know how she affected him after all they'd been through together? Or perhaps she knew and conveniently ignored it? "That's not entirely true," he murmured. "You've always been able to distract me. Always." He pushed himself up to get up from the beanbag.

"Hey, wait a minute," Bulma objected, reaching over to grab his arm. "Don't go yet."

Vegeta held back a sigh and did as she asked. "What is it, Bulma?"

"I... I really..." Bulma wasn't sure how to phrase her question, but he got the point.

"Yes, you are a huge distraction to me. I have told you this before," Vegeta reminded her. "I am usually aware of anyone wherever he or she is if they are nearby. But you... Do you have any idea how often you have been able to walk up behind me without me detecting your presence? At the same time, you are so deeply ingrained in me that I can feel you here, inside of me." He placed her hand over his heart. "I can tell if you are happy or sad, excited or bored, tired or wide awake. I..." He trailed off, turning his head to look straight ahead.

Bulma suddenly recalled how she had felt some odd awareness that hadn't been her own a couple of times- just before the GR had exploded, while he'd been in space, when he'd tried to get Goku to do away with him while sparring. She moved her hand from his chest. "Our bond?" she heard herself asking.

He turned his head to look at her and said nothing, but simply gave her a little nod before looking away again.

She reached over to lay a hand over his, noting the nearly unnoticeable flinch he gave off at her touch. "I'm sorry, Vegeta."

"Sorry for our bond?" he asked bitterly. Although he might have behaved to the contrary in the past, he'd never truly seen their bond as a burden, nor had he regretted forming it with her, despite how much its existence distracted him.

Now he understood just why it did.

Bulma's eyes teared up. "No Vegeta, no! I'm sorry that it causes you so much pain, and that I'm the cause of it," she told him sadly.

Vegeta picked up her hand, running his thumb along her palm in a gentle caress. "You're not the reason we broke up, Bulma," he told her softly, wondering if she felt as much hurt from the bond as he did. He twined his fingers through hers, suddenly needing the security of the gesture. "Why did you come in here?"

Bulma felt her breath hitch as his fingers curled closed around hers and felt a little grateful for the change of the topic of conversation, even though it needed to be discussed. "I have an early morning flight, so I'm going to stay the night at a hotel by the airport. I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving before I go."

"I see." Vegeta looked back over to her and leaned in closer. "Will you do something for me before you go?" he murmured.

Bulma felt her body grow warmer. "What's that?" she murmured back, not sure she wanted to hear the answer but at the same needing to hear it. Suddenly, she felt him set something down on her lap with his free hand.

"Just for a little while?" he asked.

Bulma looked down at the object on her lap and giggled when she saw what it was. "Oh, I suppose we could go a round or two," she responded in a low voice.

Vegeta bit back a groan. "Don't tease," he murmured, accepting the game she handed back to him and letting go of her hand to start the game.

"Sorry," she said remorsefully, although she wasn't entirely sure she was. She hadn't been with anyone, not even Hiroshi, since Vegeta had left her to go to space, and felt the need now and then. It was worst around him, the memories of their time together and how wonderful he had made her feel flooding back to her mind.

"Bulma!" his voice came insistently as he gave her a little nudge. "Do you still want to play?"

"Huh?" Bulma snapped out of her daydream and felt a blush tinging her cheeks. "Yeah, just thinking of something," she mumbled.

Vegeta held back a smile and handed her a controller. Despite being ki restricted at the moment, that didn't restrict his senses in the slightest and he knew what had been the subject of her thoughts.

* * *

"Hello?" Anya called out as she and Geta shed their coats. "Where is everyone?"

Geta paused as he felt out for any familiar ki. "Mother and Father are in the den," he reported.

"Oh," Anya responded slowly, as if she was unsure about how to respond to that before heading that way, her husband on her heels.

"Oh yeah, now that's what I'm talking about!" they heard Vegeta announce before laughing heartily.

"Ugh! I'm so sick of playing with you!" Bulma yelled in response.

"Oh, you know you like it when I dominate you," Vegeta quipped.

Geta opened the door to see his parents sitting cross-legged on an oversized beanbag in front of the television, Vegeta fairly shaking with silent laughter as he completed what Geta was sure was not his first four-line Tetris.

"Stop laughing, you big brute," Bulma pouted as random pieces flooded onto her side of the screen.

"Sorry," Vegeta said rather unrepentantly. "You're just so hot when you're angry."

They could see a flush of pink on the back of Bulma's neck. "Oh, stop it," she objected half-heartedly. She looked down at her watch. "Holy cow, we've been playing for two hours!" she exclaimed. "I've got to get going if I'm going to get to my hotel at a decent hour."

"So soon?" Vegeta objected. "Don't you want to say goodbye to the children first? They've been down for a few hours so they should be waking up soon."

Bulma hesitated. "I don't know. I don't want to see them upset that I'm leaving," she told him.

"I know exactly what you mean," Vegeta responded in an uncharacteristically soft voice, making her drop her head.

"Vegeta, I..." Bulma began, clearly moved by his words.

"Bulma? Pops?"

Bulma and Vegeta twisted around to see the young couple standing in the doorway. Vegeta scowled; what they had interrupted was private. "How long have you two been standing there?" he demanded, getting to his feet.

"Not too long," Geta assured him. "I'm glad you're still here, Mother. I'd like to say goodbye to you before you go."

Bulma got up and came over to give him and Anya hugs. "I'm glad too," she told them. "But I really need to go now." She turned back to Vegeta. "Thanks for the game. I had fun."

Vegeta watched her leave. "Yeah," he muttered. "Did you two eat dinner yet?"

"Yes, we did," Geta told him. "Are you all right?"

Vegeta realized he was moping and scowled. "Fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"Just making sure is all, Pops," Anya spoke up.

"I'm fine," Vegeta repeated. "I'm going to order some pizza."

Anya and Geta exchanged a glance. He didn't look fine. He looked depressed.

* * *

Vegeta leaned against his elbow on the desk as he looked at the notes Hina had translated for him. He didn't particularly want to make this call for Bulma, but it _was _an important client and he didn't want to make him wait. He didn't want to give the client to Dr. Briefs either, as the older man had just gotten back and had enough of his own calls to return.

A knock at his door made him look up from the file on his desk. "Come in."

Hina walked in with some files in her hand. "Vegeta, Bulma checked in and said to ask you to find her white pool coverup and that it should be hanging in her closet. She said to give it to Nuiko because Nuiko has a few things to give her."

Vegeta frowned. Was Geta dropping something off? "How will Nuiko get it to her?"

To his surprise, Hina went a little pale. "She... Bulma didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Hina sighed. "Hiroshi is going to meet her at the resort," she said quietly, her heart wrenching for Vegeta when his face fell.

"I see," Vegeta said in kind. "Tell Nuiko I will find it for her tonight." He picked up the phone to call Bulma's client.

"I'm sorry," Hina whispered as she placed the files in his inbox.

Vegeta paused in his dialing long enough to give her a nod of acknowledgement. It wasn't her fault, but he could plainly see that she felt wretched about being the one to tell him. He sighed as the door clicked shut. It was just another of Hiroshi's indignities he had to bear, one that made him feel that he was falling further and further away from any resolution with Bulma.

* * *

Vegeta sat down in one of the chairs in front of Dr. Briefs' desk. "So, how was your trip?"

Dr. Briefs smiled. "Oh, it was absolutely wonderful. The missus and I both loved the place. We'd like to go back for longer sometime." He shifted in his chair. "How have you been holding up, Son?"

"Fine," Vegeta assured him. "I'm still in the process of making a few calls for Bulma, but I'm starting to catch up on everything else I've got on my desk right now. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I had Hina advertise the Human Resources Director position-"

"No, how have _you _been holding up?" Dr. Briefs interrupted gently.

Vegeta dropped his eyes and bit at his lip, a habit he had picked up from Bulma herself. "Fine, I guess," he mumbled.

Dr. Briefs wasn't buying it. "Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to talk about?" he pressed gently. As before, Vegeta wasn't acting like himself.

"Did she really go on vacation with him?" Vegeta asked, without looking back up.

Dr. Briefs held back a frown, having suspected what the problem had been. He'd stayed out of it, not wanting to be in the middle of the situation concerning Bulma's choice of travel companion. "I'm afraid so," he confirmed. "There will only be a few days when they will both be there, but, nonetheless..."

"I can't do this," Vegeta blurted in a choked voice. "I cannot stand to sit back and watch this any longer. You and I have spoken about expanding to Eastern Country._ I _will do the scouting for you. I will go to Eastern Capital, Big Apple, Sage City, Cherry Hills, or anywhere else you want for me to go." Visibly struggling to control the emotions he both cursed and embraced, he turned away from Dr. Briefs, his head down and breathing heavily. "I will go." His voice was little more than a whisper. Humiliated by his second bout of what he considered weakness in a week's time, he inhaled deeply in an attempt to hold himself together, but it did little good. Utter despair overtook him; he would be a fool to expect that Bulma and Hiroshi would be staying in separate rooms. Why would they? They _were_ dating, after all. They were mates... The ray of hope he had felt from B's visit withered and died from the crushing blow this latest news had dealt him.

Dr. Briefs felt as though he had been stabbed in the heart when the proud young man grabbed a tissue, the back of his neck turning bright red in embarrassment. "All right, Vegeta," he said quietly. "If that's your wish, go ahead and make the arrangements."

Vegeta nodded. _How could I be so weak as to fall apart twice in hardly more than a week's time, let alone at all?_ "I will," he managed.

"Vegeta, I want you to ask if you want anything at all, understand?" Dr. Briefs' voice did not leave room for argument. "I will support whatever you decide."

"Thank you, Shatsu," came the small response.

"You're welcome, Vegeta." Dr. Briefs turned to leave in order to allow him some privacy, then paused. "I will miss having you here, Son."

His statement hit Vegeta like a load of bricks. "Yes, there _is_ something I want," he decided, stopping the doctor in his tracks, "although I will understand completely if you do not support me on it."

"What is it?"

"If we make this happen, in all likelihood I can expect to be gone for long periods of time, correct? Away from my son." Vegeta blew his nose and threw the tissue in the trash.

"I hadn't thought about it, but probably so- Ohhhh..." Dr. Briefs felt another stab of sympathy for Vegeta rush over him as he realized the true meaning behind his question. "You had best speak to Bulma about that."

"Of course," Vegeta agreed, helping himself to the hand sanitizer on Dr. Briefs' desk. "I am not expecting her to be pleased about it." He sighed tiredly. "The boy will be living on another planet when he is old enough to take the princess for his wife, so I will rarely see him after that. And everyone keeps telling me how fast they grow up. I do not wish to be a stranger in my own son's life, someone who only caused his birth and periodically trains him."

Before Dr. Briefs could respond, the phone rang. He gave Vegeta an apologetic look. "I'd better answer this. It's Bulma," he reported, feeling even worse when Vegeta shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Hello, Bulma."

"Hey, Daddy," Bulma's voice came through the speakerphone. "Just wanted to check in with you. How was your trip?"

"Oh, wonderful," Dr. Briefs responded, holding up a finger when it looked like Vegeta was about to get up to leave. "Vegeta and I were just talking about it."

"Oh. He's in the room?"

"I'm here, yes," Vegeta spoke up. "I take it you are having an enjoyable time?"

"Yes, it's absolutely beautiful here," Bulma responded, feeling a little awkward. There was something about his voice that bothered her. "Did I interrupt something important?"

"No, no, it's fine. There is something that Vegeta and I need to discuss with you, anyway," Dr. Briefs told her.

"Okay." Bulma was at a loss as to whatever it might be that couldn't wait until she got back. "Is something wrong?"

Dr. Briefs steepled his fingers. "Vegeta and I have been discussing the possibility of future expansion for Capsule Corp," he informed her. "We are looking at several larger cities in Eastern Country. The numbers certainly seem to support it now, after Energy Technologies."

"Really? That's great!" Bulma exclaimed excitedly. "I wondered if we'd ever go that route, but I never had any time to pursue it."

Dr. Briefs nodded. "We're going to send someone over there to do a little legwork, in order to select what seems to be the most suitable location."

"Did you have anyone in mind yet?" she asked.

"Yes," Vegeta responded, after the doctor's pause tipped him off that he should field this question. "I am going."

Bulma paused. "You, Vegeta?"

"Why not?" he countered. "It was my idea."

"It's his project," Dr. Briefs added. "I intend to give him full authorization to run with this."

Bulma knew exactly what something this huge meant- he would be working constantly, would probably never be home. It had happened to her in the past and she'd dealt with it, but now that she had a baby and a... a...

A what? Bulma couldn't bring herself to fill in the blank.

"But why you? Why not send someone else?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"As your father said, this _is_ my project," Vegeta reminded her. "Why should it make any difference to you whether I go or someone else does? Do you wish for me not to go?"

"I-" Bulma couldn't think of a solid reason for him not to go- not one that didn't touch her personally, anyway. "What about VJ?" she asked, suddenly experiencing a despairing feeling of loss when she realized how much she would miss him while he was gone. It would be different this time, different than the times he'd gone to space. He'd be close, yet so far away.

"I will miss our son," Vegeta admitted. "But I am certain that we can arrange for a mutually acceptable joint custody arrangement with visitation for whomever he is not living with at the time." He shot the doctor a look that asked him to go along with the flow of the conversation.

Bulma found herself completely floored. She'd never expected him to do anything remotely close to this. "J-joint custody? Visitation? What do you mean?"

"Bulma, certainly you realize that I will be spending extended periods of time overseas to complete this project, most likely months at a time," Vegeta told her matter-of-factly. "I do not intend to be a stranger to my own son. And do not forget that as part of his service to Gerdia, he will be required to protect not only the crown but the populace as well. He must be adequately trained in that area and in the ways of formalities of the royal court."

Bulma was still in shock. _He... he's really _leaving?_ But... I..._

Vegeta picked up on her hesitation and decided to snap her out of it the most effective way he could. "That being said, I have decided to take Vegeta with me when I leave."

"What? You want to take my baby halfway across the planet with you?" she shrieked.

"Why not?" Vegeta responded casually. "I won't be gone too long this time, and he _is_ my son too, remember? I need to make airline reservations for both of us, so unless you were planning for your mate to bring him along on vacation with you, which I doubt he'd appreciate, you'll be fine until you get back, won't you?"

Unbeknownst to them, Bulma's eyes widened; not only had she caught the carefully worded statement within his question, but, within that same statement, he'd revealed that he somehow knew that her vacation plans included Hiroshi. What could she say in response? "I..."

"Ah, so the office grapevine _was_ correct," Vegeta remarked. "I am fortunate that a certain employee who has at least a small measure of respect for me was decent enough to tell me privately before I heard the wrong way and ended up in an embarrassing situation because of it." He crossed his arms, scowling, the irritation coming through in his voice. "You might have had the courage to tell me yourself, unless, of course, you thought I would have some reason to be upset about it. Should I?"

Bulma blushed bright pink, glad he couldn't see her. "What I do on my own personal time is none of your or anyone else's business, Vegeta," she snapped.

Vegeta was counting his blessings that he had heard the news from Hina before he'd gotten wind of all the gossip going around. And boy, was it _ever _going around. "Then Bulma, why does the entire Marketing department know about it? And Engineering, Community Relations, Administration, just to name a few. Even your own science lab is gossiping about it. Only this time, I am not the subject when it comes to rumors about you," Vegeta informed her.

Bulma gasped, but then her eyes narrowed. How _dare _he? Before she could begin her verbal assault on him, he continued.

"I did not confront you with this to insult you or hurt you," Vegeta said quietly, "and I do apologize for doing this in the presence of your father, but he does have the right to know what is going on around here."

There was a long pause. "No."

Vegeta frowned, confused. "No, what? You don't think that-"

"No, you're not taking _my_ son with you," she said flatly. "You're going in there blind. You don't know-"

"Do you honestly think that I would deliberately bring harm to my own _son_, Bulma?" Vegeta interrupted incredulously. "You know me better than that."

"Do I?" Bulma asked coolly.

"Bulma, I am not going to do this with you," Vegeta murmured. It tore at him that he had just lost control of his emotions because of her for the third time, and now she was giving him the third degree. "I will not pick a fight with you, nor will I again make the mistake of saying something hurtful before I leave because I foolishly believed that it would be easier to go if you were angry at me."

There was another long pause on the other end of the line. "Vegeta, I..." Bulma sighed.

"I'll leave you two alone to talk things out," Dr. Briefs spoke up.

They waited in silence until the doctor left the room. "Bulma, I am very sorry that I hurt you," Vegeta murmured. "If I could take back that day, I would without hesitation. I don't want to hurt you further, and you know that I could never allow any harm to come to our son."

"I know," Bulma conceded, not verbalizing which part- or parts- of his statement she was referring to. "I just... He's my baby."

"I know," Vegeta acknowledged. "You told me that you will be gone for two weeks. If I am gone for longer than that, I will have Geta come get him upon your return. How does that sound?"

"I... I don't know," Bulma murmured.

"I will defend our son with my life," Vegeta said firmly. "I will never allow him to be in an unsafe situation. Besides," he continued, his voice softening, "there is no reason for him to be separated from both of us, is there?"

Bulma sighed again. "All right," she finally agreed. "As long as you take good care of him and he comes home when I do."

Vegeta found himself a little offended by the very thought that he wouldn't properly care for his son, but at the same time he understood the bond between parent and child and decided to let it go. "Agreed. Don't worry about Vegeta. He will be with me continually. All right?"

"All right."

"Good. I will e-mail you my itinerary as soon as it is available," Vegeta assured her.

Bulma thought about him mentioning sending Geta if his trip extended longer than her vacation and frowned to herself. "When are you leaving?" she asked.

"As soon as I can make the arrangements," he told her. He wanted nothing to do with her vacation or covering for her further. Besides, being away on this business trip would keep his mind away from her and her travel companion. "I only need to make a couple more phone calls in your behalf, and the rest of my work can wait."

"Oh." Bulma found herself surprised by not only this turn of events but especially by how quickly he was leaving.

"Yes." Vegeta felt decidedly uncomfortable by the situation and decided it would be best to end the call. "I should go home and pack. I will find your robe for you as well."

"Okay. Thanks."

There was another awkward pause. "Bulma?"

Bulma's heart leapt up in her throat. "Yes, Vegeta?"

"I'm sorry. For everything." Vegeta hit the release button, ending the call before she could say anything in response, and leaned heavily against Dr. Briefs' desk, his hands over his face as he let out a long sigh. The whole situation was messed up. He could only hope that getting away for a while doing something as important as preparing for this project would help him get her off his mind.

* * *

Vegeta sighed as the same ugly polka-dotted suitcase with a ratty piece of neon-colored cloth tied to its handle made its way around the baggage claim carousel for the third time, willing himself not to be impatient as he waited for his own suitcase. Why couldn't he have taken a private flight as Bulma had? On his initial flight out of Western Capital, it was bad enough the way he'd gotten frisked at the airport, but to his extreme annoyance the security officer had refused to allow him to carry his luggage on board via a capsule and had made him check his suitcase. Even worse, the man had attempted to confiscate the capsule until Vegeta had told him that he couldn't give it up, claiming it held trade secrets. In the end, he had called Geta, who had unfortunately made quite the sight when he teleported into the middle of security and taken the capsule before teleporting back home. When all was said and done and Vegeta had finally arrived at his hotel in Sage City, his first destination, Geta had popped by again to deliver the remaining contents of the capsule- a laptop, a fully stocked diaper bag, and a briefcase. Needless to say, traveling with all of that and an infant had not exactly been easy, especially since he'd had to cram the laptop bag into the overstuffed diaper bag so he wouldn't exceed his carry-on limit (no, the boy could not carry anything on; he'd tried that argument). He'd finally caved and bought a piece of carry-on luggage small enough that he could bring the bare essentials with him on his flights.

He sighed again when his luggage finally emerged from the depths of the baggage claim and slid onto the conveyor belt. Shifting VJ a little more snugly against him with one arm, he reached out to grab his suitcase, a relieved feeling flooding over him as the tag on it confirmed it to be his. It had already gotten misdirected twice during this trip and he had no desire to repeat the experience. He'd have to get a neon cloth of his own.

What? Hell, no! He'd have to invent a capsule that didn't _look _like a capsule and wouldn't be _detected _like a capsule. Maybe something that connected to his keys. Humans always had fifty billion things unassociated with keys on their keyrings anyway. He'd seen rodents' feet, whistles, flashlights, miniature shopping cards, pill bottles, pocket knives, and other equally unrelated items dangling from people's keyrings. He shook his head briefly, willing the thought away. For the love of Kami, who cared about keyrings? This trip had become exhausting, and all he cared about at the moment was getting to his hotel.

VJ yawned and rubbed at his eyes. "Da-ee, ni-ni," he whimpered, looking up at his father with pleading blue eyes.

Vegeta ran a hand over his son's hair. "I know, Daddy is tired too," he consoled. He hadn't realized that the way humans typically mass traveled by air could be so tiring; after all, wasn't he just sitting in a seat? But it _was _tiring and they were both overly fatigued as a result of constant traveling every couple days. Even so, he didn't regret bringing his son along for an instant. At times, it had been the child who had kept him going. In any case, the faster he could fly under his own power again, the better. "We'll get to our hotel and have a snack so we can go night-night, okay?"

VJ rested his head on Vegeta's shoulder. "Okay, Da-ee."

Relieved again when his son responded positively, Vegeta stacked his carry-on on top of his suitcase and wheeled the luggage toward the elevator leading to the shuttle pick up zone. If he could just get through this last leg of the trip in Strawberry Fields, he could go home and sleep in his own bed.

* * *

Vegeta sat cross-legged on the bed with his laptop, typing his daily report. He had just put VJ down for the night and didn't really prefer to do more work after a long day but it was easier to just get it done rather than try to remember all of the details the next day. He looked up from his laptop when he heard a knock at the door. Out of habit, he almost searched out for a ki but remembered his restriction. Besides, it wasn't as though he'd actually know anyone here. "Who is it?" he called out, unsure of who would be knocking at his door and why.

"Bulma."

Vegeta froze. "No, it can't be," he murmured to himself. Although, since he had left his itinerary with both her and Dr. Briefs, it wasn't completely unbelievable who the person on the other side of the door was. But why would she be here? Perhaps she had cut her vacation short for some reason and had come by to claim their son. "Just a minute."

He put his laptop on the nightstand and got up, briefly checking on VJ, who was still asleep. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Indeed, Bulma stood before him. "Bulma, what are you doing here?" He stepped aside and gestured that she should come in, shutting the door behind her.

"I missed my little Vegeta," she told him a little apologetically. "But I missed my _big_ Vegeta, too." She looked up at him through her lashes. "Both of them." Her eyes traveled down briefly, then back up to meet his again.

Vegeta's eyes widened; surely she didn't mean what it seemed like she did. "B-Bulma?"

She gave him a knowing smile as she unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off, letting it tumble down into a pile of silk on the floor. "I _know_ you want me, Vegeta," she murmured in a sultry voice. "I want you, too." Her skirt quickly followed the blouse.

"What... what about Hiroshi?" Vegeta whispered. By the gods, he wanted her! But it was disgraceful to touch another man's mate in such a way. To his disappointment he forced himself to back off, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to stop himself if she touched him with those soft, warm hands that he would never forget the feel of on his body.

Bulma's lower lip protruded into a pout. "What _about_ Hiroshi? I'm through with him." She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, tossing it at him and taking advantage of his surprise as he caught it by slipping off her panties, giggling throatily at his expression as she did so.

He groaned as her fingers slipped under the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, leaving him naked as well. Unable to hold back any longer, he wrapped his arms around her when she embraced him, pressing herself closely against him.

"I want you, Vegeta," she breathed in his ear. She nibbled her way down his neck, down to the mark she'd left where she'd bitten him. She ran her tongue over it, and he was incapable of suppressing a shudder. "Make love to me," she demanded. "I need you now!"

He stumbled backwards as she pressed against him, the backs of his legs hitting the mattress. The next thing he knew, she had pushed him back onto the bed and climbed atop him, and was kissing him with a fierce passion. He rolled them over, devouring her mouth with his own as his hands roamed hungrily over her body. She gasped and moaned and trembled at his attentions, encouraging him to continue.

She hissed with pleasure as he-

Vegeta woke with a start, wondering what had roused him, and cursed in several different languages as he heard his son begin to wail. He rolled over to look at the clock. Its large green numbers glared back at him in the darkness.

1:36

He had been in the middle of his fondest dream- Bulma had dumped Hiroshi. This time, however, she had sought him out, with only one thought, one intention in mind, and every intention of acting on it. Why, oh _why_ did the boy have to wake up now? He rolled out of the bed with a groan. "Even five minutes would have been nice. Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered as he made his way to the crib in the corner. He paused as he reached down to pick up his son. "Well, not anymore," he told the crying infant in a soothing voice. "Somebody made sure of that, didn't they? That's okay, I'm better off not dreaming about your mother like that."

A loud noise in the hallway interrupted him, and he turned his head toward the door, resting his sniffling son up against his chest as he began shushing the child. "What the hell?"

He heard it again, and his keen hearing detected two voices.

"Be quiet, would you? You're going to wake someone up."

"Good, then they can help with this luggage. Did everyone really have to bring two suitcases?"

"Jeff, that is so rude," the woman's voice whispered.

"They'll get over it! Kami, calm down already."

*THUD!*

Vegeta scowled, now knowing what had not only woken his son up, but rudely interrupted his dream as well, just when he was getting to the best part. He patted VJ's pajama-clad back one more time before laying him back down in his crib. He'd take care of these two, give them a piece of his mind!

VJ promptly began to cry even harder than before, a mournful, choked sobbing that made it evident that he did not want to be alone in his bed. It suddenly occurred to Vegeta that his son, being in a strange place with loud noises and voices he didn't recognize startling him awake, was afraid and merely wanted the comfort of being in his father's arms. It probably didn't help that the child would pick up on the angry feelings Vegeta was experiencing.

"Hey, it's all right, Son," Vegeta said soothingly, scooping the little boy back up. "Don't cry. Daddy has you." VJ immediately stopped crying and rested his head on Vegeta's shoulder, sucking his thumb. "Let's go see who woke you up and spoiled my nice dream."

He padded to the door and opened it a little, peering out into the hallway. There was another loud thump as Jeff hauled another piece of luggage off of the cart he was using and shoved it into the room.

"Excuse me," Vegeta began, holding in his irritation, "but it is 1:30 in the morning, and you woke up my son," he informed the man, aware that he would be able to see the baby he held. "Would you mind-"

"Hey, chill out, buddy," Jeff interrupted sarcastically. "I'm almost done here, so go back to getting your beauty sleep."

"I... pardon me?" Vegeta asked, stunned by this man's audacity. Several other doors were cracked open; it seemed that they had an audience.

All right. _Well, let's not disappoint them._

"Jeff…" The man's wife put her hand over her forehead as if staving off a headache. "I'm sorry, Sir." She turned her head. "Andrea, turn _down_ the TV right now. In fact, turn it off."

"Calm down," a teenage girl's voice came from the room. Evidently she had the same manners- or lack, thereof- as her father. "Kami, Mom, you're such a freaking _nag _sometimes!"

"Yeah, you're a total nag, Mom!" another teenage girl's voice repeated.

"I'm sorry, everyone," the woman repeated, obviously embarrassed.

"Go back in the room, Helen," Jeff demanded. "Hey, short stuff! This isn't a show, so why don't you just put your whiny little brat back to bed and go away." He turned his back on Vegeta and continued with his luggage.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. This Jeff individual had just crossed the line. He opened the long bar latch at the top of the door to prevent locking himself out and stepped out into the hallway, clad only in his black spandex training shorts. "Hey! You get over _here_ and say that to me!" he snarled, pointing to the hallway in front of where he stood. "Come on, tough guy! I'm _loaded_, so let's make the intent to commit great bodily harm lawsuit you'll undoubtedly file against me worth it!" He shifted VJ in his arms so he could better look at him, an idea to further get everyone else on his side suddenly popping into his mind. In a complete change of behavior, he smiled tenderly at his son, running a gentle hand over his hair. "I know what will help you feel better. Did you want to see Daddy rearrange the weakling's face for what he said about you, Son? Yes, of _course_ you do!" he crooned to the boy in that soothing tone of voice someone trying to get a baby to react happily would use.

VJ did not disappoint and clapped his hands, shrieking in delight. "Da-ee!" His once innocent little face twisted into a perfect imitation of his father's smirk.

"Yeah, go for it, buddy! I've got to get up at 5:30 for a conference tomorrow," one man complained.

Vegeta turned back to Jeff, and a wide, toothy smile spread across his face. "Anyone have any objections?"

There was silence in the hallway, save the occasional snicker.

Jeff stood wide eyed and frozen in terror. Why, oh _why_, did he have to piss off someone who not only had _fangs,_ but was an absolute powerhouse? He hadn't been able to tell until he came out into the hallway but, despite being quite a bit shorter, this guy was more built than any bodybuilder he'd ever seen and judging from the amount of scars he had was not afraid to get into a fight. He was a sitting duck if the man did decide to hurt him, and it appeared that there wasn't a single soul on this side of the floor who would stand up for him.

"Oh gods Andi, the guy's an absolute hunk," Andrea's sister whimpered from inside the room.

"I'll say," a voice from somewhere down the hall quipped. Several women giggled.

"Judith! Thanks for nothing. Shut the door and let's get some sleep, will you?" a male voice complained.

"All right, Son," Vegeta continued, a slight blush covering his cheeks, "pay attention now. This is how you…" He trailed off, a broad grin on his face. "Oh, how priceless. That's good enough for me. Now, Jeff- it _is_ Jeff, right? Let's set a good example. You go change your pants and go to bed like a good boy and I'll leave your face intact." He leaned in closer to the terrified man. "But I don't want to hear so much as another _peep_ come from your room or I'll forget that there are children watching, got it?" he hissed.

Jeff nodded frantically.

"I can't hear you," Vegeta said in a sing-song voice. "What was that?"

"Y-yes, no problem. Sorry to have disturbed you, Sir," Jeff stammered.

"Good man." Vegeta patted Jeff's head condescendingly. "Now get your crap out of the hallway and keep it down." He easily removed the last of the luggage from the cart and tossed it into the room.

Andrea giggled. "Hot and strong, too. And good with babies. What more could a girl ask for?"

Vegeta shoved Jeff into the room and pulled the door shut. "For Kami's sake," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Yay, go Mister!" a little boy yelled. "You rock!"

Vegeta chuckled and went back inside his room, shaking his head as he bolted the door. These Easterners were _strange_ people.

* * *

Vegeta looked down at his watch. It had been a long, busy day. The twenty-minute wait he'd been quoted had come and gone, and he was getting hungry.

VJ cooed and began to wriggle in his grasp, interrupting his thoughts.

"You're a cutie pie! Yes, you are," a voice crooned behind him, causing the boy to coo in response again.

Wondering who the child was reacting to, Vegeta turned to see a pretty red-headed woman smiling at his son. She renewed her smile. "Your little boy is just adorable," she informed him.

Vegeta couldn't help but preen; of course he was. "Thank you," he responded, rubbing the little back gently.

"How old is he?"

Vegeta found the questions some women asked about other people's children to be rather personal, but Bulma had explained to him that they were fond of children and were simply curious and meant no harm. "He's nine months," he answered.

"I would have guessed older than that. You're a big boy, aren't you?" she continued, smiling and waving at VJ again.

"He was almost fourteen pounds when he was born," Vegeta supplied, suddenly wondering just why he was telling this woman he didn't know any of this.

Her eyes widened. "Great Kami," she exclaimed. She looked from the child to Vegeta. "Do I know you? You look so familiar to me somehow."

"I don't think so. I'm pretty proficient at remembering names and faces," Vegeta told her.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "I _know_ I've seen you somewhere before," she insisted. "I remember your hair. It's quite, ah, distinctive." She smiled sheepishly, then her face brightened suddenly and she snapped her fingers. "I've got it! You work for Capsule Corp in Western Country, don't you?"

The corner of Vegeta's mouth quirked up. "Yes, I do."

She smiled brightly. "You're the one who just closed that huge Energy Technologies deal. Congratulations, by the way. I always keep up with big business when I can. Oh!" She frowned, frustrated. "For the life of me, I can't remember your name, and it's going to bug me until I do. Something different, with a V."

He couldn't help but be impressed. "I am-"

"Vegeta," they chorused.

Vegeta grinned. "I'm not even that public of a person at Capsule Corp yet," he told her. "Not bad, Ms..."

"Fisher," the woman supplied, extending her hand. "Carly Fisher."

Vegeta shook her hand politely. "Carly Fisher, Carly Fisher... Why does _your_ name seem so familiar now?" He eyed her speculatively.

"Vegeta, party of two," the hostess called out.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Vegeta," Carly said sincerely.

"You too." It suddenly hit him who she was. "I've got it. You're alone, right? Come eat with me so we can talk." He went up to the front of the crowd of people. "Please cancel Ms. Fisher's table. She'll be joining me," Vegeta instructed the hostess.

"No problem, Sir," the young woman responded, grabbing an extra menu. "Right this way."

She lead them to a table and set down the menus. "Mary will be your server, and our special tonight is the swordfish with wild rice and steamed asparagus. Enjoy your meal."

Vegeta settled his son into the high chair the restaurant had provided. "Metallurgics, Inc."

Carly laughed and clapped her hands. "Bravo, Vegeta! Very good!"

He smiled. "I suppose reading all of those business publications had some value after all," he quipped.

Carly chuckled in response. "Yes, I suppose they can be dull reading at times," she admitted. "But there are usually little gems of wisdom interspersed here and there." She picked up her menu and opened it. "So, what brings you to Eastern Country?"

"Business," Vegeta answered cryptically. He laughed when she gave him a withered expression and looked back down at her menu. "Okay, all right. It's not public knowledge yet, but Capsule Corp is considering expansion into Eastern Country," he told her, pleased when she immediately looked up from the menu.

"Really?" Carly asked in surprise. "I admit, I sort of wondered what was taking so long."

"Really?" Vegeta echoed. "Why would you wonder that?"

"Well, Capsule Corp has been steadily growing over the past few years. If someone didn't pay close attention, they might not notice and one day suddenly think, "Hey, what happened? I knew they were big, but..." She smiled. "Like I said, I always keep up with big business when I can. I noticed."

"So you're more than just a pretty face, I see," Vegeta commented, opening his own menu.

"Oh, I try. Now, hush you," Carly responded half-heartedly. "Does this expansion have to do with Energy Technologies?"

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. Definitely more than just a pretty face. "As it was put to me, the numbers certainly seem to support expansion now, after Energy Technologies," he told her a little cryptically. "This trip was merely intended to be taken for scouting purposes, not as a means for an end result as far as something along the lines of production is concerned."

Carly nodded. "That, however, should always be taken into consideration when selecting a facility," she advised. "Metallurgics is expanding in order to acquire manufacturing facilities for a new product line we're currently working on. Strawberry Fields is our top pick."

"It is one of my two top picks as well," Vegeta agreed, "but I do have certain..." He inhaled, trying to phrase his statement appropriately. "...reservations, I suppose one might say."

Carly snorted and waved her hand. "Oh, I completely understand where you're coming from. Let's face it, Strawberry Fields was a beautiful city at one time, but it's not exactly the nicest place anymore. It's gotten run down, trashed. Bad neighborhoods." She closed her menu and set it down. "It's a shame, really. Once the place started going downhill, people left instead of continually putting their hard earned dollars into repairing and replacing other people's lack of better judgment, let's call it. People wanted their families to be safe and secure. I can't really blame them," she said sadly. "I sure wouldn't walk the streets alone in certain areas here."

"What started it all?" Vegeta wanted to know.

"A combination of things," Carly began. "Eastern Country is in the midst of a major recession, and this area has been hit especially hard by it. Rather than tough it out, corporations started relocating to better areas. Jobs were being sent overseas. People lost their means of living and their homes in the blink of an eye. Those who were in the financial position to leave did, leaving those who could barely manage to make it behind. Then you get unscrupulous people moving in, corrupt officials, et cetera, et cetera."

"Ah."

"Da-ee!"

Vegeta looked over to his son. He knew what that particular tone meant. "You're hungry, aren't you?" he asked, letting a little smile escape when a charmed Carly giggled.

VJ nodded. "Wan num-num," he informed his father.

"Okay. When the lady comes, Daddy will get you some food, okay?" He turned back to Carly. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Carly assured him. "She _is _taking quite a while." Suddenly she brightened. "I know, put down your menu," she suggested. "Sometimes they won't come over if they think you're still trying to decide."

"Oh." Vegeta did as she suggested. "What were we talking about?"

Carly thought about it for a moment. "Oh, it was Strawberry Fields' decline," she reminded him.

"Right, you're right," Vegeta agreed. "I think, however, that this area has quite a bit of potential. It is an ideal location to ship to and from, being right on the water. There is a major airport. There is plenty of real estate to choose from."

Carly nodded in agreement. "Definitely. We got the property for our new facility dirt cheap. And let's not forget the number of people with little means who would love to have a good job."

"Indeed. I did think of that. Expanding here would create jobs, which will help boost the economy," Vegeta agreed. "I can also think of ways that Capsule Corp can assist financially by heading up various programs here, and take a tax deduction in the process. I think there might be some interest when I bring this to the table." He sat back in his seat. "Well, wouldn't you know it, here she comes."

A waitress came over to their table. "Hiiii, I'm Mary," she crooned. "I'll be your waitress tonight. Are you ready to order?"

Vegeta nodded to Carly, indicating that she should order first. Ugh, but this woman's voice was annoying.

"I'll take the bacon cheeseburger cooked medium and no onions," Carly decided.

"Would you like to add fries or onion rings to your order?" Mary sang.

"Sure, fries," Carly decided.

"What to drink?"

"Root beer."

"Woooonderful," Mary oozed as she scribbled Carly's order down. "And for you, Sir?"

Vegeta absently thought if the pitch of her voice changed one more time, he'd be forced to maim her. "I will also have a bacon cheeseburger, but with onion rings," he informed her. "Medium and everything on it. I'll also have the chef's salad with honey mustard, the fish and chips, the strip steak cooked medium rare with cole slaw and a loaded baked potato..."

Carly's eyes widened as he continued to order item after item. Could he really be serious?

Mary obviously had the same thought in mind. "Uhm, Sir?" she ventured.

"Don't worry, I'm serious. Oh, and a bowl of chili and lemonade to drink." Vegeta handed his menu to the stunned waitress and smiled sweetly.

"All right, I'll put this in," Mary stammered before hurrying off.

"Are you expecting more people?"

Vegeta managed to hide his smirk. "No, I am just hungry. But I ordered enough that I will still have room for dessert," he informed his disbelieving dining partner.

"But, who could eat all that?" Carly demanded.

This time Vegeta allowed a smirk to emerge. "If you think I eat a lot, I know a couple of people who could give me a real run for my money," he informed her.

Carly's eyebrow rose. "Okay... This I've got to see."

"Oh, you will, I assure you."

"Da-ee, num-num!" VJ insisted.

"The lady is getting us some food, okay? You need to be patient, Son," Vegeta told him gently. "Back to Strawberry Fields. I think it has a lot of potential, which I will mention in my report to the board." He leaned back in his seat. "So, Metallurgics sells all types of metals, is that so?"

Carly nodded. "That's so. Why, are you planning on giving me some business?" she quipped.

Vegeta chuckled. "I just might at that, depending on whether you have what I want and what price you quote me."

"Sure, bring it on," Carly told him. "I can quote lots of different stuff at great prices."

"I'll get you a list," Vegeta promised. "Ah, here she comes."

"Here are your drinks, a bread basket, and a salad for you, Sir," Mary announced, placing the items on the table. She turned to go, then paused.

Vegeta held in a sigh. "Yes, I'm still serious. Thank you."

Mary gave him a skeptical look. "Okay. Your food will be out shortly." She paused again. "Some of it, anyway." She bustled off.

"Da-ee..."

"For heaven's sake boy, you'd think I never feed you," Vegeta complained, removing the child from his high chair and putting him on his lap.

VJ's eyes were glued to the food. "Uh..."

"Okay, all right." Vegeta pinched off a tiny piece of bread and gave it to his son, who eagerly accepted.

Carly giggled. "Aww, he's so cute."

* * *

Vegeta's phone rang, interrupting their conversation, and he gave Carly an apologetic look. "I apologize for the cellular phone, but I must stay in touch with Capsule Corp. Speaking of which, excuse me one moment." He flipped the phone open. "Hello there Shatsu, how are you today?" he said in Western Standard.

"Hello, Vegeta. My, you're in a good mood," Dr. Briefs noted, chuckling.

"I'm having dinner right now, and it's quite good. Not as good as Bunny's cooking, though."

He could hear her giggle in the background. "Oh, Vegeta. You're such a sweet boy," Mrs. Briefs cooed.

"Hey, what can I say? It's _me_," Vegeta quipped, eliciting more giggles. "I guess you've got me on the speaker phone then?"

"Yes, we can all hear you loud and clear," Dr. Briefs confirmed, as smatterings of hellos greeted Vegeta. "How are things going over there?"

"Wonderfully. I've already managed to gather a lot of information which I will compile for the board." Vegeta paused. "Hold on- Vegeta, no. Daddy said _no_, so stop it. That's not for you." He laughed. "You look just like your mother when you make that face, child."

"Hey!" Bulma objected.

"Bulma? You're back." Vegeta never thought he'd be disappointed by that.

She caught the subtle tone to his voice. "You say that like it's a bad thing," she complained.

"No, no, not at all. It's just that you said when you got home, you were going to come get- hold on. Vegeta..." He sighed. "Could you hold him for me? He's going to eat that otherwise, I guarantee it," he said to Carly in Eastern Standard.

Carly laughed and held her arms out. "Absolutely! C'mere, Sweetie. Kami, you're adorable."

"Thanks." Vegeta handed over the baby and reverted back to Western Standard. "Sorry about that. Vegeta was trying to eat the centerpiece on the table," he related with amusement.

"Who were you talking to, Pops?" Anya asked.

Vegeta chuckled. "Oh, you'll _never_ guess in a million years who I'm having dinner with, Anya."

"Sounded like a woman," Anya commented.

"Yes."

"Is she somebody famous?" Geta asked, exchanging a covert look with his wife.

Vegeta contemplated this. Carly must be quite well known by the right individuals. "Yes, in certain arenas," he answered cryptically.

"Hmm. If she were an actress, she'd be famous," Bunny decided. "Oh, I know! Is she a model?"

A chuckle rumbled deep in Vegeta's throat. "Nope. Could be, though."

"I take it she's attractive, then," Bulma commented, a hint of iciness in her voice.

Vegeta decided to take her up on it; after all, she was the one who'd brought it up. "_Oh_ yeah," he agreed, grinning. "A redhead, in fact." He growled playfully into the phone.

"Hmph." Bulma crossed her arms.

"Look, none of you are going to guess any time soon, so I'll snap a picture with my phone and send it to your e-mail, Shatsu," Vegeta decided. "Call me back when you get it." He flipped the phone shut.

"I love listening to people speaking in foreign languages," Carly told him. "It's so cool. I keep meaning to learn another language but haven't. I should, considering my field of work."

Vegeta nodded. "It's very helpful," he agreed, slipping back into Eastern Standard. "They couldn't guess who I was having dinner with. Not even close. So..." He reopened the phone and pressed a few buttons, then beckoned her closer. "I told Dr. Briefs I'd get a picture and send it to his e-mail."

Carly brightened immediately. "You were talking to Dr. Briefs? I've always wanted to meet him!"

"I'm sure I could arrange it, considering our conversation tonight." Vegeta moved his chair a little closer to hers and waved to a member of the staff passing by. "Miss, could you take our picture on this phone?" He held it out.

"Sure! No problem. Okay, everyone say 'cheese'!" the waitress directed, holding the phone up in front of them.

* * *

A tone signifying a new e-mail sounded on the lab computer. "Let's see who our mystery lady is," Dr. Briefs announced, opening the new message. "Let's see... it says, 'I think you'll be quite interested in my conversation with this young lady'," he reported.

"Quick, open the picture!" Anya exclaimed, eager to see who her beloved Pops was dining with.

He did so, and his eyes widened. "Bulma! Bulma, is this who I think it is?" he asked excitedly, stepping away from the monitor.

Bulma looked at the picture, unsure of what to think. Had Vegeta posed them the way they were on purpose, or had they just moved in closer to both get in the picture? He was sitting quite close to a very attractive redheaded woman, his arm behind her and his hand at her side. She had leaned in from the other direction and was holding VJ on her lap. The child was beaming happily at the camera phone, his hands together as if he were clapping. All three of them were smiling; in fact, Vegeta was grinning broadly. "That _woman_ is holding my baby!" she shouted.

"Mother, you heard what Father said. She was keeping him away from the centerpiece." Geta leaned in to get a better look. "Hey, they look good together, don't they?"

"Shut up, Vegeta," Bulma snapped.

"She _is_ quite attractive, Dear," Mrs. Briefs commented as Geta backed away from his peevish mother, muttering darkly to himself as he did so. "And Vegeta's a handsome man. They _do_-"

"So is that who I think it is or not?" Dr. Briefs interrupted, noting his daughter's reaction.

_Jealousy._

"That's..." Bulma took a closer look and gasped. "That's Carly Fisher!" she exclaimed.

"Who's that?" Anya asked.

"Carly Fisher, President and CEO of Metallurgics, Inc." Bulma supplied. "They're a huge distributor of all types of metals and metallic components." She paused. "You don't think he's struck some kind of deal with her, do you Daddy?" Without waiting for a response, she hit the speakerphone button and pressed redial.

* * *

"That's all you have to say when it rings."

"I don't know. The only Western I know is 'yes', 'no', and 'good morning'. I don't even know how to ask where the bathroom is, for Kami's sake. I can't be answering your phone."

"Why not? It'll be Dr. Briefs again. He'll get a kick out of it."

Carly sighed, and couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, I'll do it. But first, tell me what I'm supposed to say means."

The phone rang before he could answer. He pushed it toward her. "Go ahead," he insisted. "I promise you it's nothing bad."

"Okay," Carly finally conceded. Although, considering the mischievous look in her dining companion's eyes... She flipped open the phone. "Moshi moshi, Ouji-sama no keitai denwa."

There was silence at the other end, then a snort. "I see his Highness has trained you to worship him already," a female voice with a thick Western accent commented dryly.

Carly blinked. "What! Okay, you. What did you have me say?"

Bulma could hear him laughing, followed by a noise that sounded like she'd landed a well-earned smack on him. "Don't worry, it is nothing demeaning."

"I hope not," Carly responded, giving her unrepentant dinner companion a sour look.

"No, no. He just had you, hmmm, what is the saying, butter him up, is all. Ouji-_sama_, hmph," came the mildly disgruntled response.

VJ began to whimper; he could hear his mother's voice coming from the phone. "Mama! Mama!" he exclaimed, reaching up in an attempt to grab it.

"I think he wants the phone, Vegeta," Bulma could hear Carly tell him.

Vegeta nodded. "Put it by his ear."

Carly did so, watching as the baby giggled and babbled happily as the woman at the other end spoke to him. "Is this his mother?" she whispered.

Vegeta nodded.

"She works at Capsule Corp, too?" Carly whispered again.

Vegeta paused, realizing his error- she didn't know who she had been speaking with. "His mother is Bulma Briefs," he whispered back.

Carly nearly dropped both the child and the phone in her surprise. "Why didn't you _say_ so?" she demanded. She had heard that Bulma had a child, but wouldn't have made such a connection in a million years since she never read tabloids.

He shrugged helplessly. "You never asked. Besides, think about it. I can't just go around telling people who my son's mother is. She's a very important person."

"I see your point," Carly conceded. "It's okay." She paused. "Would she have seen that picture?" She bit at her lip.

"Undoubtedly," Vegeta responded. "But she is seeing someone else, so it shouldn't bother her that I am having dinner with you." He took a sip of his drink.

Carly frowned. "Are you two, well, on good terms?"

He nodded. "Yes. We are... still friends."

Carly could sense the sadness- bitterness, perhaps?- in his voice. _He doesn't seem too thrilled about that. Is that a good or bad thing, I wonder?_ "I see."

"Da-ee!" Both adults looked down at the child on Carly's lap. "Da-ee, Mama!"

"Let me have the phone," Vegeta requested. "Hello, Bulma," he said softly, switching back to Western Standard. "I hope you had a pleasant trip."

"I did, thanks," she responded. "I missed my baby, though."

He could tell that she'd turned off the speaker phone and figured she was probably alone in the room now. "I know what you mean. I'll miss him when I'm gone, too."

"Vegeta, I…" Bulma sighed. She hadn't actually enjoyed her trip as much as she'd hoped to, considering that not only had her boyfriend not joined her as planned, but she'd had more than just her _son_ Vegeta on her mind much of the time. "So how did you meet up with Carly Fisher, of all people?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We were both waiting for tables at this restaurant and she noticed our son, and thought he was adorable. Which, of course, he is," Vegeta told her. "She recognized me and I had just figured out where I'd heard her name before when they called me. So I told her to eat with us so we could talk. She has some very innovative ideas which will prove to beneficial to both of our companies. I think you and your father would be quite interested in speaking with her."

"What kind of ideas?" Bulma wanted to know.

"I will include it in the report I promised your father. Since I have been compiling the day's events every night, it shouldn't be too much of a problem to add what we spoke of," Vegeta told her. "But I am being impolite to Carly right now, so I will call you later. Meanwhile, please check your and your father's schedules so we can all meet together when I am finished here."

"All right," Bulma agreed. "When will you be back?"

"I'm not quite sure," he told her. "I had anticipated coming back the day after tomorrow but things are taking a little longer than I anticipated, especially considering this newest development."

"Okay. So where can I meet you to come get VJ?"

Vegeta's face fell. He'd been dreading this. "Bulma, just give me a couple more days-"

"Vegeta, you promised that Geta could come get him once I got home," Bulma interrupted impatiently.

"I did, but you got home earlier than you said you would, remember?" he reminded her. "Just two more days, Bulma. That's all I ask."

"Vegeta, you _promised_," Bulma repeated sternly.

"This is about my dinner companion tonight, isn't it?" Vegeta said in a low voice. "I have done nothing improper."

There were a couple seconds of silence. "Where can I meet you to pick up my son?"

Vegeta sighed. It was pointless to try to argue with her when she was in this mood. "Give me a couple hours to finish up here and get back to my room," he relented in a defeated voice. "Just call before you come to make sure I have gotten back."

"All right. I'll see you in a little bit."

"All right," Vegeta repeated, flipping the phone shut. He leaned his elbow against the table, his forehead in his hand.

"Are you all right?"

Vegeta lifted his head. "Yes, fine. Sorry about that."

"It's okay." Carly looked a little concerned. Despite not being able to understand Vegeta's conversation with Bulma, it was obvious that he wasn't on the same page with her regarding whatever they were talking about.

"She was on vacation with her obnoxious boyfriend and was supposed to come get Vegeta once she got home if I was still gone. But she came home early, and..." Vegeta trailed off and sighed, wondering why he had chosen to tell a stranger details about his personal life.

"I'm sorry," Carly told him.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," Vegeta assured her. "She's just being an overprotective mother."

"She was the one who called back after you sent the picture, not Dr. Briefs," Carly countered.

She looked sad. "Carly, please don't worry about it," Vegeta insisted. "She would have done the same thing, regardless."

"Da-ee?"

Vegeta caught himself staring blankly at the centerpiece and shook his head. "It's okay, Vegeta. Daddy is fine." He took VJ from Carly. The boy would be taken away from him soon, and he wanted to enjoy his son as much as possible until that happened. "So, what can you offer me on lixatum ore?" he asked, steering the conversation back to business.

Carly felt terribly for Vegeta but respected the change of topic. After all, she had only just met him and his personal life was none of her business. "I can quote you a price, certainly, but I have something else you might be interested in that could lower your cost by at least sixty percent."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "Something as good as lixatum that could save me sixty percent, you say?" he queried. Lixatum was tough stuff, to say the least. It was able to withstand a lot of pressure, extreme temperature and wear before becoming unstable. It cost an arm and a leg, so it was the parts that utilized lixatum in Bulma's energy conversation equipment that cost the most money to produce. If they could save up to _sixty _percent... "What do you have that's even comparable for that price?"

"We have developed a special metallic compound that can be poured into whatever shape and size you want, then baked at high heat to solidify it. We can add whatever finish you want. It can also be used as a coating for other materials. It is able to withstand 95 percent of the weight and pressure that lixatum can, and the same temperature extremes that lixatum can. It is also tarnish and weather resistant. If you'd like a sample I'd be more than happy to arrange it." Carly took a sip of her champagne, eyeing him speculatively as she did so.

There was a long pause. "Are you serious? Why haven't you manufactured this yet?" Vegeta asked.

"Well, we've just perfected the formula and are about to enter the marketing phase," Carly told him. "I know of a couple clients who I'm sure will be interested in testing this in their products."

"You haven't mentioned this to anyone else yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Then why tell _me _when you could have sold me lixatum at a far greater cost?" Vegeta asked.

His question took Carly by surprise. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose it just popped into my head at the mention of lixatum." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Tell me, do the products involved with the Energy Technologies deal utilize lixatum?" she asked smoothly.

"Indeed they do," Vegeta responded in kind, "which is why I would like an exclusive on your product, should it pass our testing." The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile.

Carly felt her cheeks flush slightly as she returned the smile. She didn't have many of what she could only call "smooth" clients, none of them even close to this man. She didn't think that he intended to flirt with her or anything, just that there was something about his demeanor that was attractive and grabbed her attention. It could explain how he was suddenly so successful despite being new in the business world, considering the massive deal he'd just pulled off. "I don't know that I can do that quite yet," she told him. "The aforementioned clients might be a little upset and find another supplier if I don't offer our product to them as well."

Vegeta nodded. "I see your point," he conceded. "But do keep me in mind when you accept bids for this... what is the name of your product?"

Carly laughed, surprising him. "We're intending to create a whole line of this type of product, so rather than try to think up something clever, we've considered just calling it Metallurgic lixatum. A little lame, I know." She shrugged.

"Quite accurate, however. Of course, it could be a little confusing if someone was told to buy Metallurgic lixatum and didn't know whether to buy your created lixatum or lixatum from you," Vegeta pointed out.

Carly sat there for a moment. "I see your point."

"You could simply call it metallixatum, or metallurlixatum, or something of the like." Vegeta downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp and poured himself another glass.

"That's... not bad," Carly agreed. "I'll run it by my staff."

"Da-ee!" VJ's voice interrupted them. "Wan!"

Vegeta looked to where his son was reaching and chuckled. "No, you can't have that." He turned VJ around to face him. "What is it with you and wanting things in which you are far too young to partake?"

Carly giggled. The baby was just so cute. "What besides your champagne does he want?"

"Oh, my coffee, playing with women's blouses, things like that," Vegeta responded casually.

Carly laughed. "Yes, I'd say you're just a wee bit too young for that," she informed the pouting child on Vegeta's lap.

* * *

Vegeta picked up his phone and sighed. It was Bulma, no doubt calling to retrieve "her" son from him. Why couldn't she come to his room as she had in his dream? He knew it was pointless to even think about it, so he flipped open his phone to accept the call. "Hello, Bulma."

"Hey, Vegeta."

Vegeta waited for a moment, but she didn't say anything else. "Hey. How are you?"

"Fine." Bulma found herself a little surprised, having thought that he would be upset at her for the way she had spoken to him over the phone.

"That's good," Vegeta responded.

"How have you been? Things going okay over there?" Bulma asked in the hope of ending the awkwardly formal tone of the conversation.

"Tired from all of the travel, but I think that you and your father will be pleased with my findings," Vegeta said. "I will have a full report for your perusal shortly after my arrival home."

_Home... He really thinks of Capsule Corp as home, despite everything that's happened between us the past couple of months?_ "Great, I look forward to reading it." Bulma paused. "Look, Vegeta, I know that I was rude with you earlier, and I'm sorry about that."

Vegeta shrugged, despite her inability to see him. "It's all right," he told her. "You're Vegeta's mother, and you want to see him. I can understand that."

"No, it's not all right," Bulma objected. "You were right. I did come home early from my trip and I expected you to just hand VJ over earlier than we agreed. I was just feeling irritable, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

Bulma frowned a little. "For what?" She heard Vegeta sigh.

"You were obviously upset about the picture I sent," he said in a quiet voice. "I should have taken a more tasteful approach about it."

Bulma's face softened. "I'm not mad about the picture," she told him. "I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself because I had a lousy vacation."

"What?" Vegeta tsked. "Why? Was it cold there?"

"No, it was beautiful," Bulma assured him. "I just... Hiroshi never showed up as planned. He said something came up he couldn't put off. As much as I wanted to get away from everything and everyone, I realized that I didn't want to do it alone. It was pretty disappointing, actually. Such a nice place, and no one to share it with."

Vegeta wanted to tell her she could have called him and he would have been there in the bat of an eye but wisely refrained. "That is disappointing," he agreed, inwardly gleeful that the bastard hadn't joined Bulma but feeling badly for her hurt at the same time. "I'm sure your next trip will be better."

"Yeah."

"So," Vegeta began, breaking what had become an awkward silence between them. "When can I expect Geta to bring you?"

"Like I mentioned before, I thought about it and I think you should keep VJ with you a little longer," Bulma responded. "You'll only be gone a couple more days, right?"

"Yes." Vegeta decided not to tell her that he already knew that, should the board agree with his report, he'd be back out here for business soon enough. He had a deal to seal that would save them hundreds of millions of zeni. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's fine, Vegeta. I can handle a couple more days. Is he still awake?"

"No, he fell asleep before I even made it back here. Too much champagne,

I think."

Bulma's voice cracked a little bit. "Too much champagne?" she asked incredulously. "You gave the baby _champagne_?"

"Shhh, you'll wake him up." Vegeta chuckled heartily. "You're far too easy, my dear."

"Hmph."

He chuckled some more. "Never fear, he's just tired from a long day is all."

Bulma couldn't help but smile. He'd gotten her mind off of self pity and on to their son instead.

Not to mention his father.

"Thanks Vegeta. Give VJ a kiss from me."

"I will. I..." Vegeta paused. Gods, should he finish what he'd almost said that day in her office? "I suppose I should finish my report before it gets too late."

"I suppose so."

There was another long pause. "Well, good night, Bulma. Or morning, or whatever it is there right now."

Bulma giggled. "Good night, sleep tight."

The line disconnected and Vegeta set his phone down onto the nightstand. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. If he could just do this a little longer... He shook his head and plopped down onto the bed, reaching over for his laptop. It would be all right. Kami willing, it would be all right.

* * *

Note: The intended translation for when Carly answers Vegeta's phone is "Hello, Ouji-sama's cell phone." You all know who the illustrious Prince Vegeta is and what "sama" means. I'm not going to dumb that up. :)


	23. Chapter 23

AN: I suppose I could say that there's really nothing for me to talk about other than what I've already been saying over and over: big changes coming up and keep reading. However, I will venture to say that some of you will not be happy with the events of this chapter.

Keep reading...

Thanks go to my dear hubby who once again read this chapter for me, and once again expressed his irritation at the lack of, well, resolution that we've all been wanting. Oh yeah, and he reminded me about something I need to follow up on, a sub-plot that I'd forgotten about, which in turn reminded me of something _else_ that also needs attention. Whatta guy!

Keep reading...

Oh, and leave me a review when you're done. Vegeta demands that you get him out of this mess.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

"The board has reviewed your proposal, Mr. Vegeta, and I must say that we are quite impressed." The chairman of the board leaned back in his chair. "You certainly covered a lot of ground during your trip and have supplied us with much valuable information with which to render our decision."

"Thank you, Mr. Furuta," Vegeta responded, nodding to the man respectfully. "May I assume that the board is in agreement with my recommendations?"

Mr. Furuta shifted a little uncomfortably. "Not entirely," he informed him. "There are those of us who have some reservations about your proposed location in Strawberry Fields."

Vegeta nodded again. "I had expected that," he admitted. "I had reservations of my own until I conducted more extensive research on the area. Much of it was accomplished with the assistance of Ms. Carly Fisher of Metallurgics, Inc. Metallurgics is finalizing plans to expand to Strawberry Fields and Ms. Fisher has done some considerable scouting work herself."

A ripple of murmurs passed around the table. "How did you manage to get Ms. Fisher's assistance with your research?" the chairman wanted to know.

"We were both waiting for tables at the same restaurant when she noticed my son and struck up a conversation with me," Vegeta began. "She realized who I was, however, because of my hair." He grinned a little sheepishly when several people at the table laughed openly. "We decided to eat together so we could talk. I'm confident that Capsule Corp stands to potentially save quite a bit of money by utilizing one of Metallurgics' custom products during the production of Ms. Briefs' energy units."

Another ripple of conversation went around the table. "Are you certain of this, Mr. Vegeta?" another board member asked.

Vegeta nodded and took a small object out of his suit coat pocket, which he slid across the table to the man. "I have personally tested this part, which if made with lixatum ore would cost over 1,000 zeni. This piece would cost roughly between four and five hundred zeni, depending on the quantity purchased and the shipping distance. It is just as good as the lixatum part. This all would depend, however, on whether or not Capsule Corp wishes to bid on the product once it becomes available for sale." He stopped talking when the ripple became unrestrained excited chattering.

"You were aware of all of this, Ms. Briefs?" one of the board members asked.

"Not everything," Bulma responded, having been rather surprised herself. There were several lixatum parts in her device, and if they could save that much on one part, think of how much they'd save overall! "Much of it is in Mr. Vegeta's report. The full details were not." She turned to Vegeta. "I suppose you wanted to use close proximity to Metallurgics as a bargaining point?"

Vegeta gave her an unabashed smirk that made her stomach do a little flip-flop. "You know me too well," he admitted, resisting the urge to toss her a wink. This was too important of an issue to ruin by flirting with her. "As you all know, there are many reasons for my decision. This one would save additional money, as well as allowing for direct production oversight."

The chairman leaned back in his seat, a frown on his face. "I am not fully convinced that this location is the most suitable choice. We will conduct a vote on this issue," he announced.

"I would like the board to know that while I no longer hold a seat on the board, I am in full agreement with Mr. Vegeta and support his decision," Dr. Briefs spoke up. He had recently handed over the portion of his job duties that included his position on the board to his daughter and therefore had no vote on the matter, but felt strongly enough about the project's success that he had opted to sit in on this meeting. "I agree that this is not a decision to be made lightly, but I have full faith in Mr. Vegeta and his abilities to carry out this project and can see the validity of his reasons for selecting Strawberry Fields as the expansion city of choice in Eastern Country."

Mr. Furuta nodded. "I respect and value your input, Dr. Briefs. Let's conduct the vote now."

Vegeta was surprised to find himself decidedly nervous as the vote went around the table. The yes and no votes were coming in very closely, and he hadn't realized how important the acceptance of this project had become to him until now.

"Ms. Briefs, the vote is currently tied," Mr. Furuta announced after glancing at the notepad his secretary handed to him. "Your response will be the deciding vote for this issue."

All eyes were on Bulma as she mulled the decision over in her mind. On the one hand, she could clearly see why half of the board had reservations about Strawberry Fields. She had been surprised by Vegeta's recommendation and wasn't completely sold on the city herself. However, she could also understand Vegeta's reasons for wanting to locate there. Her gut feeling was to vote no. So why was this so hard?

She knew the answer- because she was casting the deciding vote that would make or break Vegeta's project, and whether or not she was willing to admit it, she still greatly cared about him and didn't want to hurt him.

Just cared?

"Ms. Briefs?"

Bulma snapped out of her reverie. "I'm sorry... I'm just not sure on this one," she admitted.

"Bulma?" Vegeta ventured softly.

Bulma turned to him. "Vegeta, I..." She sighed.

He leaned in a little closer. "Our personal issues aside, have I ever steered you wrong?" he murmured.

Bulma felt as though a knife was twisting its way through her heart. He was sincere about this, but she just didn't know if it would work. They stood to lose a lot of money if it didn't. She had to vote according to her conscience.

"Yes."

Vegeta too felt as though she'd stabbed him through the heart. "I..." He didn't know what to say, so he sat back in his seat quietly. He'd worked so hard to help her, worked so hard in her behalf. How could she even think that?

"My vote is yes. I look forward to watching the progress on this venture and hope it goes well." Bulma stood up. "Gentlemen." She looked Vegeta in the eyes. "You're right. You've never steered me wrong before."

Vegeta watched as she left and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She'd had the power to shut him down and hadn't, despite her reservations. He didn't know whether to thank her or curse her. Either way she voted would cause him pain- either by her rejection, or by her willingness to send him away for long periods of time.

"Well, it appears that this meeting is adjourned," Mr. Furuta noted as the board room door shut. "Good luck to you, Mr. Vegeta." The remaining board members stood as well, talking amongst themselves as they headed for the door.

Dr. Briefs placed a hand on Vegeta's shoulder, making the shell-shocked younger man look up at him. "Congratulations, Son. I wish you only the best of success with this. Don't forget that you will always have as much assistance as you need from Bulma and me here."

Vegeta nodded mutely.

"Well, let me know if I can do anything for you while you hash out your plans," Dr. Briefs told him, deciding to take his leave so Vegeta could think things over. He hadn't missed the betrayed look on Vegeta's face when he had misinterpreted Bulma's vote, just as he hadn't missed his reaction when he'd realized what she had actually meant, and figured that the younger man had plenty to think about.

* * *

Bulma sank down into her chair and leaned her elbows on the desk, her forehead resting in her hands. She hadn't felt completely right about Vegeta's decision, but she couldn't be the one to vote him down either. He'd already put a ton of work into this project, and hadn't done a half-hearted job of it. He'd kept detailed notes every day and had prepared one heck of a report of his findings. She'd been voted down by the board before and knew how it felt to be bitterly disappointed by it. And he'd been right. He'd never let her down as far as business was concerned.

She tried to ignore the biggest reason she had voted yes.

Bulma sighed, forced once again to acknowledge her lingering feelings for her son's father. But no, he was far more than that to her, and she was now the one who would be responsible for sending him away for so long from the only people he cared about.

But she couldn't bring herself to crush his spirit, his pride, either.

At least he would only be gone long enough to head things up and get the ball rolling. Once everything was in place, they could find a suitable person to run the new branch, under Vegeta's direction, of course.

Bulma swiped at her face with the back of her hand and sniffled. "Stop it, Bulma," she chastised herself. "There's no reason to be blubbering over something good."

A project of this magnitude would take time.

Kami, but she'd miss him.

* * *

Vegeta looked up from his laptop when he heard a knock at his bedroom door. A weird feeling of déjà vu swept over him as he remembered the dream he'd had while he'd been away. He set down the laptop on his nightstand and got up from his bed to answer the door.

As in his dream, Bulma stood in the hallway. He swallowed. "Hey."

"Hey," Bulma responded.

Vegeta stepped aside and gestured that she should come in. He shut the door behind her. "What's up?"

Bulma spied the suitcases next to his bed. _He packed already? But he's hardly been home._ "I just wanted to pick your brain a little about Strawberry Fields." She gestured toward the suitcases. "You're not leaving already, are you?"

"Afraid so," he told her. "Carly called to tell me that the parcel I'm most interested in has an offer, and I'd better come back if I want to make one of my own."

"Oh. Do you think you will?"

Vegeta nodded. "Most likely. It's a prime location and well suited for what I have in mind."

"I see." Bulma bit at her lip. "When are you leaving?"

"First thing tomorrow," he told her. "I had just finished booking my flight when you knocked."

"Oh, that reminds me. We should test your viral levels before you go. And this time take a beacon with you to leave there so Geta can bring you back and forth instead of flying," Bulma suggested.

"Both very good ideas," Vegeta told her. "I suppose I could leave the beacon with Carly for now."

Bulma felt jealousy sweep over her again at the mention of Carly, Carly and more Carly. "I suppose you could, but then you'd have to explain what it is and how it works, and the fact that you aren't human will surface much more quickly than you'd hoped," Bulma countered.

Vegeta didn't miss the hint of iciness to her voice. "I... You're right," he admitted. While there were humans on this planet who could fly and use ki the way he did, he certainly wasn't one of them. "Bulma?"

"Yes, Vegeta?"

Oh, but if only she would say that in another context. "Thank you."

Bulma paused. "For what?"

"For your vote yesterday," Vegeta told her, taking her hand in his. "I know that you were not in agreement with my recommendation, and I appreciate your confidence in me."

Bulma nodded, willing herself not to nibble at her lip. "I could tell that you really wanted this, Vegeta, and I couldn't be the one to shoot you down. But-"

He placed a finger over her lips gently to hush her. "Do you not want me to go?" he murmured.

Her eyes widened when she realized that he was dead on- she really didn't want him to. "Vegeta, I... I..." How had he gotten so close to her?

"I'll stay if you want me to." Vegeta leaned in even more, his arm snaking around her back. "Just say the word," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to hers.

He was looking at her so intensely that she nearly lost control of her emotions. She stepped back, looking away in an attempt to remain calm.

Vegeta's face fell. Taking her actions as a rejection, he walked briskly to the balcony doors, opened them, and shot into the evening sky before she could utter a single syllable.

Bulma rushed over to the balcony. "Vegeta! Vegeta, come back!" She scanned the sky, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Dropping to her knees, the tears she'd been holding back rolled down her cheeks as she gasped for breath between sobs. Why did this have to be so difficult? She knew her future self was right, that she still loved him and always would. So why...?

Bulma sniffled and picked herself up from the floor. This was her fault, continually letting him get close to her, then pushing him away in an effort to remain loyal to her boyfriend. She'd talk to Vegeta when he got back. They needed to come to an understanding.

Too bad she didn't know just what that was yet.

* * *

Bulma pulled on her robe and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She'd fallen asleep before Vegeta had returned despite her best efforts to stay awake. Maybe her mother had made him breakfast, or had at least seen him that day.

"Good morning, Dear," Mrs. Briefs sang as Bulma entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mom," Bulma responded. "Have you seen Vegeta today? I want to talk to him before he leaves."

Mrs. Briefs pursed her lips uncomfortably. "He already left to catch his flight, Bulma."

The hopeful expression on Bulma's face fell. "Oh. Thanks."

Mrs. Briefs paused, as if uncertain that she should say what was on her mind. "He seemed rather upset by something. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell." She cocked her head inquisitively. "Is this something to do with why you wanted to talk to him?"

Bulma sighed and sank down onto one of the kitchen table chairs. "I wish I knew what to do about him," she admitted. "It seems like we always end up on the wrong foot."

Mrs. Briefs set down the spoon she'd been using. "Bulma," she began quietly, "Vegeta loves you so very much. All he wants is you. He's tried so hard to help you see that."

"Mother!" Bulma moaned, covering her face with her hands. "Even if that is the case, what am I supposed to do? I can't just dump Hiroshi and invite Vegeta back into my life!"

"Why not?" Mrs. Briefs countered. "After all, Hiroshi doesn't-"

Bulma's head snapped up and she glared at her mother. "Thank you very much for your support, Mom!" she shouted. "I don't need your or anyone else's unwarranted criticism of my boyfriend. Why won't you lay off him for once? No, instead it's always how wrong he is for me and how I should give the man who walked out on me _twice _another chance because he's sorry about what he did! Maybe if you actually tried to be civil to Hiroshi for once, you'd see what I do about him!"

Mrs. Briefs sighed as her daughter angrily stormed from the kitchen, nearly bowling over Dr. Briefs, who was about to enter the kitchen, in the process. She'd done it again.

Dr. Briefs watched his daughter stomp off and turned his head to look at his wife in astonishment. "Bunny?"

"Oh Shatsu, it's all my fault," Mrs. Briefs said in a wavering voice. "She was looking for Vegeta but he already left for Strawberry Fields and we got to talking about his feelings for her and she said she didn't know what to do about Vegeta and that she couldn't just dump Hiroshi to take him back and I asked her why not and she got upset and I've probably just driven her even deeper into that vile man's clutches and it's all my fault!" she blurted in one long exclamation.

Dr. Briefs hurried over to his wife during her little tirade and drew her close. "Shh, Bunny, shh... It'll be all right. Just give her some time to cool off." He ran his hand gently over his wife's back. "I saw Vegeta this morning too before he left and he seemed a little out of sorts. Whatever happened between those two probably resulted in both of them being hurt, and I'm sure Bulma is just upset over that. Just give her some time."

Mrs. Briefs nodded and dabbed at her face with the edge of her apron. "All right, Dear. I'm sure you're..." She paused, then sniffed. "Oh no, I've burned our breakfast!" she exclaimed, leaving her husband's embrace to rush over to the stove. She poked at the contents of the pot with her spoon. "Damn it! This slop isn't edible in the least!"

The only outward indication of Dr. Briefs' reaction was a slight twitch of his mustache. He'd never tell her so, but he found it hot when his beloved wife's tongue faltered, especially when she was mad, exhibiting what she referred to as 'bad behavior'. His mustache twitched again when she shoved the pot into the sink with a huff and turned on the water, crossing her arms over her chest in irritation.

"Oh, Bunny, it's all right," the doctor soothed. "I didn't really want oatmeal for breakfast anyway."

"Well, I'm not cooking anything else!" Mrs. Briefs retorted. She sighed, immediately looking remorseful. "I'm sorry, Dear. I've been behaving badly today, and all because our daughter can't see what an idiot she's dating."

"It's all right, honey bunny," Dr. Briefs told her, smiling when his wife giggled at the little pet name. "What do you say we go to breakfast, hmm? Just you and me. The others can fend for themselves for once."

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "That sounds wonderful," she agreed.

"All right. Let's go." Dr. Briefs lead his wife from the kitchen outwardly looking happy, but inside his mind was filled with turmoil.

* * *

"Hey there."

Vegeta lowered his newspaper. "Hello, Carly. Have a seat."

Carly sat down across the booth from him. "When did you get back to Eastern Country?"

"Just a few hours ago," Vegeta told her, folding up the newspaper he'd been reading. "The flight between West Capital and Strawberry Fields is horrific."

"Freshen your coffee, Sir?" a passing waitress asked.

"Thanks." Vegeta slid his mug over to her. "She'll have a cup as well." He nodded toward Carly.

"No problem. I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order," the waitress responded before walking away.

"I've heard that it's a bad flight," Carly said, picking up where their conversation had left off. "I've never been to Western Country so I wouldn't know." She placed her purse onto the bench beside her. "So, how goes your property search?"

"I've already got a call in to the owner," Vegeta told her. "I made him an offer he can't refuse." He took a gulp of his coffee, frowned, and picked up the sugar dispenser.

"Hopefully you won't have to pay too much," Carly said with a little frown.

Vegeta waved that off. "No, the other guy offered him practically nothing, and I still have money left over in my budget." He had his coffee mug in his hands and was staring down at it as he slowly swirled the coffee around inside of it.

"Are you all right?"

Vegeta looked up at his dining companion. "Sure. Fine."

Carly pursed her lips. "Okay, even though I don't know you well yet, I can tell you're lying to me," she retorted.

Vegeta sighed and looked back down at his coffee. "I... Bulma and I..."

Now it all made sense. He didn't want to just be on 'good terms' with his son's mother. "Does she know how you feel?" Carly asked gently.

He nodded. "I screwed up with her and left for a while to do my own thing. When I got back she was dating the prick she's with now, and wasn't happy to see me at all. I've tried so hard to make amends and let her know how sorry I am that I hurt her, but..." He sighed. "I didn't know what a good thing I had until it was gone. I don't want friendship from her. I..." He shook his head; he'd already said too much.

Carly gave him a sympathetic look, suddenly realizing why he might have chosen to leave the son he was obviously very fond of back in Western Country for so long. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she told him softly. "I hope it works out for you."

Vegeta nodded soberly. "Thanks." He sat up straight, grateful for the arrival of the waitress.

"Are we ready to order?" the woman asked.

"I'll have scrambled eggs and ham with rye toast," Carly decided.

"And for you, Sir?"

"A slice of coffee cake," Vegeta responded.

"All right. Your order will be out shortly," the waitress said cheerfully.

Carly waited until the other woman was out of earshot. She'd seen how much Vegeta could put away on more than one occasion and figured he was only eating to appear normal. He was hardly drinking his coffee, and she had quickly discovered how addicted he was to it. "Vegeta, it's none of my business, but if you truly love her and haven't told her so, you need to," she told him seriously. "It might seem silly, but women need to hear things like that and be reassured of it."

Vegeta didn't respond and commenced swirling his coffee around in his cup again.

Carly frowned. There was no mistaking what was wrong with him; despite not knowing him well, he had the same look in his eyes every time Bulma came up in conversation. The man wasn't just attracted to Bulma, he was definitely in love with her, and it was tearing him apart. "Vegeta, I-"

"I've hired Banderas and Sons as my architect," Vegeta spoke up. "They have very good references."

Carly held back a sigh. "Yes, they're quite well known in this area," she acknowledged, respecting his decision to change the subject.

* * *

Dr. Briefs clicked on the little envelope icon on his laptop and smiled. "Well, Daughter, the message is short and sweet and to the point: 'Got the property and construction plans are being drawn up.' He certainly doesn't waste any time, does he?"

Bulma looked up from the blueprints she'd been working on at her father. He didn't have to clarify who he was talking about. "No, I suppose he doesn't."

Dr. Briefs closed his laptop and went over to her. "It'll be all right, Pumpkin," he said softly.

Bulma shook her head. "I don't know what to do about him," she murmured.

Dr. Briefs had an idea or ten but wisely held his tongue. "Just hear him out, Bulma. That's all he wants." He peered at the blueprints, feeling that a change of subject might be prudent as his daughter was obviously feeling quite emotional at the moment. "That's an interesting idea. What made you think of it?" he asked, noting one change in particular she'd made.

Bulma remained silent for a moment before answering. "It's what I imagine he would have suggested. He's quite ingenuitive about stuff like this," she managed before hurrying from the lab.

Dr. Briefs sighed, at a loss as to what he should say or do to help. Part of him said to stay out of it and hopefully the two would come back together on their own, but the rest of him grew continually more worried. While he was supportive of Vegeta's project, Vegeta had declined Dr. Briefs' offer to send some employees to help get the ball rolling and shorten his stay overseas. It was like Vegeta was going forward in reverse, and the doctor didn't know what to think about it.

* * *

Geta looked at his cell phone as it buzzed, then briefly typed something in response to the text he'd received. "Do you mind pausing it for a moment?"

Bulma picked up the remote control and paused the movie they were watching. "Sure, I need to use the bathroom anyway," she responded, getting up from the couch and making sure her son was still sleeping before heading for the door.

"Thanks." Geta placed two fingers on his forehead and disappeared.

"Bye, Da!" Vegeta sang, not at all surplussed by his father's teleportation.

"What was that all about?" Bulma asked.

Anya just shrugged. "I have no idea."

Bulma shrugged in return and headed for the hallway bathroom. As she was washing her hands, she heard loud shrieking coming from down the hall.

"Hi, Ganpa!"

"Da-ee! Da-ee! Da-ee!"

Wiping her hands dry on her jeans, Bulma headed from the bathroom to the den, where she found her now awake son in the arms of his father, who was holding the boy close, his face nestled against his hair. She knew what Vegeta was doing, as he'd sometimes liked to scent her hair when she was in close proximity. She would never admit it, but her heart was racing a little faster at the sight of him. "Hello, Vegeta."

Vegeta looked up from their son to her. "Bulma..." She was wearing jeans and the hoodie he'd given her. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and she wore no makeup.

She was beautiful.

"How are things going there?" she asked. He'd been gone for three weeks, and she hadn't heard anything from him that hadn't been received by anyone else.

Vegeta crouched down to receive an enthusiastic hug from his grandson, VJ still in one arm. "All right, I suppose, other than the fact that I'm not terribly happy with my architect, who came highly recommended," he responded. He chuckled when little Vegeta threw his arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I missded you, Ganpa!" the boy exclaimed.

Vegeta held his grandson gently in one arm. "Grandpa missed you too, kiddo," he informed his beaming namesake.

"Now, now, Vegeta. Don't maul Grandpa," Anya told her son half seriously.

Geta laughed. His son was quite pleased that his beloved Grandpa had returned. "I think Mama is right," he added. "Let's let Grandpa get settled in, then we can spend some time with him, okay?"

Little Vegeta sighed. "Okay," he conceded, climbing off of his grandfather.

"Come along, Sweetie, and you can have a cookie before bedtime," Anya suggested, instantly making both children perk up.

"Yum-yum!" VJ exclaimed, his attention momentarily diverted from his daddy.

Vegeta cracked a crooked smile. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" he accused his daughter-in-law.

"Guilty," Anya admitted. :I figured you could use a little time to catch up on stuff around here.:

"You're a good woman, Anya," Vegeta told her as he handed off his youngest son to his eldest.

Anya merely smiled as she lead Geta and the boys from the den.

"Has she been feeling all right?" Vegeta asked once they'd gone.

Bulma nodded. "She's had a few bad spells, but they haven't lasted as long this time around."

"That's good." Vegeta sat down on the couch. "You're looking well."

Bulma frowned at him and sat down at the other end of the couch. "You're such a liar. I look like death warmed over," she contradicted him.

He laughed openly, surprising her. "I've seen far worse, trust me."

"Hmph." Bulma crossed her arms and looked away. "Thanks."

If she was death, he'd gladly accept his fate with wide open arms. He sidled up a little closer to her. "Tell me, sweetness. Would you have cleaned up had you known I was coming?"

Bulma felt her cheeks go pink. "Vegeta, please." She looked over at him. He was gazing at her with heavy lidded eyes, wearing one of his rare true smiles. "What?"

He shrugged. "Just you."

Bulma didn't know how she should respond to that without either encouraging him in the wrong way or hurting him further, so she opted to change the subject. "You look tired."

He nodded. "It's been a long day. I didn't go to bed yet, just came here."

Bulma did a little quick math in her head. "You've been up all night?" she asked incredulously. "I know you don't typically need as much sleep, Vegeta, but you do need some!" She pursed her lips in disapproval. "Tell me you're not doing this all the time. Daddy said he offered to have some employees go with you but you refused-"

"Shhh, I promise I don't do this all the time," Vegeta interrupted gently. He'd never tell her, however, just how often he'd go back to his hotel room and drink himself into a stupor, or go to a club and stay out until the middle of the night. He wouldn't tell her how many nights he'd lain awake in bed, mentally abusing himself for all the mistakes he'd made with her; forget about all the other atrocities he'd committed before he'd known her, before she'd come into his life and changed it so greatly.

Bulma sighed, not convinced. "All right, but you're going to bed when we do," she informed him. "Are you hungry?"

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock at the door and Mrs. Briefs peeked in. "Vegeta, Dear! It's so wonderful to have you back home again," she gushed as she scurried into the den. Giggling, she placed a kiss on his cheek and grabbed his arm to pull him up before hugging him tightly. "You look famished. I'll cook you some dinner."

"Bunny, you don't have to do that-" Vegeta began, but he didn't get far.

"Pfft! Pish posh," Mrs. Briefs shushed him. "I'm sure you're tired of eating out all of the time, aren't you, Dear? You must really miss home cooked meals."

Vegeta's stomach decided to let out a loud growl right at that moment. "Yes, I do miss them," he admitted, making her squeal with delight.

"Come along then, and we'll make you something tasty and nutritious. It will do you some good because I'd swear you're getting thinner," Mrs. Briefs told him as she hauled him from the den. "I know! I'll cook that nice pork loin I bought yesterday."

Bulma gave Vegeta an apologetic smile as her mother carted him off. While she agreed with her that he didn't look quite right, she would have liked to have spent a little more time talking. They had a lot to catch up on.

* * *

"So, how long are you staying before you have to go back?" Mrs. Briefs asked as she removed the aforementioned pork loin from the refrigerator and began unwrapping it.

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't know. A long weekend, I suppose."

Mrs. Briefs turned to face him. "Just the weekend?" she asked, disappointment in her voice. "Couldn't you stay at least a week or two? We all miss you so."

"I miss everyone too," Vegeta told her, "but things are progressing nicely and I don't think it would be wise to hold them up. I'll visit frequently."

She sighed, a frown on her face. "I know. It's just that..." She sighed again.

"It'll work out Bunny, you'll see," Vegeta told her softly. "Once things are going smoothly there I can hire someone to run the branch and come home permanently."

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "It just doesn't feel right when you're gone," she told him. "I mean, you were gone before, but somehow this is different." She placed the meat on a cutting board and began seasoning it. "How does mashed potatoes sound?"

"Sounds great. I'll even peel for you." Vegeta took a large sack of potatoes out of the pantry. "He's been around a lot, hasn't he?"

"Ugh, yes," she responded, a grimace on her face. "You'd think he'd have someplace else to be, but _no_, he has to come here." She paused, then went back to her preparations.

It appeared that she had something else to say, so Vegeta set the potatoes on the counter and placed a hand on her arm. "Bunny?"

"I think he's cheating on her," Mrs. Briefs whispered. "I've seen hairs on his coat more than once that couldn't have been Bulma's because they were red or blonde. Even if he hung his coat in the same closet as his assistant they couldn't be hers, because Bulma says the girl is a brunette."

Vegeta realized that his jaw was set quite tightly and loosened it. "Have you told her?"

She shook her head. "No, every time I say something about that man she only gets angry and goes running back to him. And I just know that if I confront Hiroshi about it, it will only come back to bite me," she said sadly. "What should I do, Vegeta?"

"Where would you like me to dispose of the body?"

Mrs. Briefs turned to look at him. His voice had been completely serious, as was the expression on his face. "Vegeta! I don't like the man one bit, but that doesn't mean I want him _dead_," she chastised.

Vegeta pulled a vegetable peeler from its drawer and took a potato from the sack. "Come now, Bunny. Be honest." He began to peel the potato into the sink.

A little giggle came from beside him. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt if something nasty happened to him, but I still don't want him to die," Mrs. Briefs admitted.

"Tsk, tsk. Shame on you, Bunny. You don't even squish spiders," Vegeta reprimanded, making her giggle some more.

"You're such a delightful young man," she reminded him. "Maybe if he gets some wretched disease from one of these little trollops he's with, Bulma will dump him." She paused again. "But... Oh, my..."

There was along moment of silence in the kitchen, ruined only when Vegeta dropped the peeler in his hand. "Is Bulma, you know. Are they?" He couldn't bring himself to ask.

Mrs. Briefs sighed and placed the meat in a pan on the stove to sear it. "I don't know. She hasn't shared any details with me, and truthfully I have no desire to know them."

"I get what you mean, but at the same time..." Vegeta trailed off.

"I know, Dear." Mrs. Briefs washed her hands and turned to him. "I just..." She trailed off, frowned slightly, and peered closer at him. "Is that a piercing I see, young man?" she demanded sternly, hands on hips.

Vegeta's hand went up to his left ear and touched the small stud in his earlobe. "It's just a small one," he told her in defense. "It's not like I got a tattoo that covers my entire upper body or anything. I've seen people like that."

She frowned in disapproval. "You're not a girl, so why would you pierce your ear?"

Kami, if she thought one tiny earring was bad, he had no intention of telling her he intended to switch it to something else, most likely a small hoop, once he was sure he could remove it without the hole closing up. "Something to do, I suppose."

She tsked and turned back to her pork loin. "Couldn't you just read a book or something?"

He laughed. "Come now, Bunny. It doesn't look that bad, does it?"

"I suppose not," Mrs. Briefs admitted. "At least it's not in a weird spot, like on your face or your chest or something like that."

Vegeta had gone on occasion to a local gym in Strawberry Fields and had seen a man with his nipples pierced in the locker room. The thought of a piercing through a sensitive area like his nipple made him shudder, as he could easily see it being ripped out during sparring or training. "Ugh, no. My ear is enough, no need to worry about that."

"Just the other day I saw a young lady with a chain running between her lip and her ear, and her boyfriend had a pierced eyebrow." Mrs. Briefs made a sound of disapproval. "They were such nice looking people otherwise."

"Don't worry, Bunny. I don't plan on expressing myself like that." Vegeta resumed peeling the potatoes.

The door opened and Dr. Briefs came in. "Vegeta, m'boy, so good to have you back home."

"Thanks, Shatsu." Vegeta wiped his hands on his pants and shook the doctor's proffered hand.

"There are several things I'd like to discuss with you." He paused, squinting as he looked closer. "Is that an earring?"

* * *

"Hey."

Vegeta looked up from his laptop. "Hey."

"Mom fed you?" Bulma sat down on the recliner.

"Yes, I'm very well sated. I dare say I could go right to sleep," Vegeta told her, closing the laptop and setting it onto the sofa next to him.

Bulma nodded. "That's probably a good idea. It's getting late. We should catch up on what's going on in Strawberry Fields tomorrow. How does lunch sound?"

Vegeta nodded. "Sounds good to me." He stood up and yawned, stretching, and picked up the laptop. "Hopefully Geta will be done soon."

Bulma cocked her head. "Geta? What's he doing?"

"He's using the shower in the hallway bathroom because Anya is giving Vegeta a bath in their bathroom, and I don't really want to traipse across the house wet and naked," he teased, earning himself a blush and a roll of the blue eyes he loved. "He would have waited, except that our son crapped on him," Vegeta explained, smirking when she began to giggle.

"Poor Geta," Bulma crooned. "You can use my bathroom if you want," she offered. "You look tired enough to fall over."

As much as he'd have liked to take her up on her offer, Vegeta knew it wasn't the best of ideas. There were too many memories involved, too many temptations to deal with. "That's all right. I can wait."

The way he was looking at her ripped a pain through her heart. He was trying to hide it, but she could see the pain, the longing, in his eyes. "Okay. If you change your mind, my offer still stands."

He wanted to ask her if anything else was included in her offer but refrained, not wanting to start another ugly scene. "Thanks. I think maybe I'll just head to bed and shower in the morning."

"I probably will, too." Bulma got up and headed for the door. "I'm pretty tired myself."

Vegeta didn't know what else to say and so simply followed her toward the bedrooms. Along the way, they passed the aforementioned bathroom.

They both paused outside the door. "He's singing in the shower." Vegeta gave Bulma a weirded-out look. He had half a mind to bang on the door and tell him to stop. Princes didn't sing, especially Saiyan princes!

Bulma smiled. "He has a wonderful voice," she commented.

Vegeta grimaced. She was right, but... "Saiyans don't sing."

Bulma gave him a sideways look. "Oh? Your father never had royal singers at the palace?" she challenged.

Vegeta found himself trapped. "Fine, Saiyan _princes _don't sing," he clarified.

Bulma still didn't buy it. "Well, he certainly didn't inherit such talent from _my _side of the family," she informed him. "The best singer in the Briefs family is my cousin Lacey."

"Lacey?" Vegeta repeated with a little snort of amusement as they headed further down the hallway. "Lacey Briefs, that's pretty good."

Bulma scowled at him. "I'll have you know that Lacey was our great-grandmother Briefs' name. She was very dear in our family," she retorted.

"Calm down, I was only trying to rile you up," Vegeta told her, not sounding very apologetic as he did so. He stepped in close to her. "I think I've told you before that you're beautiful when you're angry, haven't I?"

Gods, he was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "You're just being silly."

"Am I?" Vegeta whispered, and she realized that she had whispered as well. He moved a little closer, and she suddenly found herself pressed up against the wall, her ex-boyfriend leaning over her with one hand on the wall on either side of her.

"Vegeta..." He'd been just about to kiss her when the bathroom door opened and Geta came out. Seeing his parents standing in such close proximity in the hallway, he immediately did an about-face and went back into the bathroom.

Bulma's cheeks flushed pink. "I... I suppose I should get to bed," she stammered, stepping out from beneath the shield of his body. "I have a breakfast appointment tomorrow morning."

Vegeta held back a disappointed sigh and nodded. "I should get some sleep too," he acknowledged. Stepping closer again, he kissed her cheek. "Good night, Bulma."

"Good night, Vegeta." Bulma slipped into her room and shut the door, conflicting thoughts running amok in her mind. On the one hand, she'd wanted him to kiss her and hold her close the way he used to. On the other hand, she knew such an act would have been playing with fire.

After all, it was Hiroshi who would be having breakfast with her tomorrow.

* * *

"Welcome back, Mr. Vegeta!" Hina exclaimed as he walked through the door. "I didn't know you came home already."

"Yes, just last night." Vegeta tossed his jacket over a chair and sank down onto it. "Kami, I'm tired."

"Coffee with cream and triple sugar?" Hina offered.

He smiled at her gratefully. "You're a gem, Hina. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She smiled in return and left to get the coffee.

Vegeta looked around the office and sighed. Never had he imagined that he would ever find himself working in an office, or anything remotely similar. Was he in over his head?

Of course, neither had he ever imagined himself hopelessly pining away over a woman, mourning her loss as she carried on with a man even worse than he was.

They were supposed to meet for lunch to catch up on things, so he had decided to check in with Hina to see how things were going before then. Vegeta shifted in his seat, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. He was becoming antsy waiting for Bulma to arrive. Why that was he couldn't quite put his finger on.

His phone rang, startling him out of his reverie. "Hello?"

"Hey Vegeta, it's Bulma."

Vegeta allowed a small smile to escape, mentally chastising himself for having worried. "Ready for lunch?"

He heard her sigh. "That's just it, Vegeta. Something's come up and I won't be able to meet you. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Vegeta was glad she couldn't see him. He was more disappointed than he realized he would be if she canceled. "Did you want to meet up later?"

"I'll try. Let me call you back, okay?" Bulma responded.

"Oh, he'll get over it. Don't stress yourself over him."

It was faint in the background, but there was no mistaking whose voice Vegeta had just heard. "Yeah, sure. Give Hiroshi my regards." He flipped the phone shut before she could respond and got up.

Bastard!

He picked up his jacket and headed for the door. She'd just made some big decisions for him, important decisions he'd been mulling over since before he'd even come home and another since he'd arrived.

The door opened before he got to it and Hina entered, coffee in hand. "Mr. Vegeta? Are you all right?"

He accepted the styrofoam cup from her. "Yes, fine. Something came up and I have to leave. I'll be in touch." He nodded to her and left the room.

Hina frowned. He'd only just arrived and already he was leaving before they could discuss anything. But even more disconcerting to her was that he didn't _look _right. Something was going on with him that he didn't want to talk about, and most of the time when he looked that way that "something" had to do with Bulma. That woman was just stringing him along, enjoying the attention she got from him but rejecting his affections. She shook her head and sank down into her chair. The sooner he got over her, the better.

* * *

"Are you sure, Father? You only just got home," Geta asked, disappointment in his voice. "The boys miss you. I was hoping you'd have a little time to spend with them before you go."

Vegeta sighed, the knife in his heart twisting further. "I... I have to go. It isn't good for me here right now."

Understanding suddenly hit Geta and he realized what must have happened. Hiroshi had picked up his mother for breakfast, and had probably delayed her from meeting with his father as they'd planned. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Yeah, me too." Vegeta zipped up the suitcase he'd been packing and opened a new one.

"You're packing an awful lot," Geta noted. "Do you expect to be gone longer this time?" A sick feeling hit his gut when his father paused in what he was doing long enough to give him a look that only meant one thing.

He didn't intend to come back again any time soon.

"Father, if there's anything I can do..."

"I'm sorry, Son. This is just the way it has to be for a while. Your mother has made it clear to me where her priorities lie, and that they don't include anything to do with me. Even business related garbage was blown off in favor of that son-of-a-bitch, and I don't have the time nor the inclination to sit around and scratch my ass waiting for her." Vegeta yanked open his closet doors and began removing items to pack.

Geta frowned. This was not a time he enjoyed being right. "All right, Father. I'll be sorry to see you go again so soon. Let me know when you're ready."

Vegeta paused long enough to acknowledge his son. "Good."

Not a "Sounds good," or even a "Thanks." Just "Good." Geta sighed and left the room, wishing that there was something, anything, he could do to help bring his parents back together and alleviate their suffering.

* * *

Bulma came into the house through the kitchen and tossed her things onto the counter. The house seemed oddly quiet, too quiet, and she found it a little disconcerting. "Hello? Anyone home?" She wandered out into the main area of the house, where she found her mother watering some houseplants in the front room. "Mom, have you seen Vegeta?"

"Try his room," Bunny suggested, not stopping what she was doing long enough to answer or even looking at her daughter. "Hmm, I think I'll need to fertilize these tomorrow," she murmured as she examined one of the plants.

Bulma knew that when her mother didn't look at her and changed the subject, it meant that she was not in the mood for whatever was being discussed and had no intention of carrying on the conversation. "Thanks."

"Mmm-hmm," was the only reply.

Frowning, Bulma took her leave and headed for Vegeta's room. What was her mother's problem? As she neared, she noted that the door was ajar, which struck her as strange because the very private Saiyan always kept his door closed. "Vegeta?" She knocked lightly. "Vegeta, are you in there?" She pushed open the door when he didn't respond, and gasped at what she saw.

The room was completely bare.

The closet door was open, revealing nothing inside. Not a single piece of furniture remained. Even the wall-mounted television was gone.

A sick feeling spread over Bulma as she took in the room. She'd only spoken to him a couple hours ago. Why would he clean out his room? Had he decided to move out? But why would he do that, unless... Bulma didn't want to finish the thought.

He had left, and wouldn't be back for quite a while if he'd taken every piece of clothing and even his furniture. She wanted even less to think about the reason why that could be.

Wordlessly, she headed back to where she'd last seen her mother. Mrs. Briefs was gone, so she searched her out and eventually found her starting dinner in the kitchen. "Mom, what happened to Vegeta's room?"

Mrs. Briefs sighed and put down the knife she'd been using. Surely her daughter wasn't an idiot. "He went back to Strawberry Fields, Bulma."

"But he took everything with him," Bulma noted, "even his furniture. Is he really planning on being gone that long?"

"It kind of looks that way, doesn't it?" came the cryptic response.

Bulma frowned. "Did he say when he would he back?"

This time Mrs. Briefs turned to look at her daughter. "I think maybe you should be more concerned about _if _he'll come back rather than _when _he'll come back, Dear."

Bulma's frown deepened. "You're blaming me for this, aren't you?" she accused her mother.

"Now, whatever would make you come to a conclusion like that?" Mrs. Briefs countered, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Do you think it could be that he got tired of being blown off by you in favor of people you feel are more important?"

"I don't have to listen to you badmouth me or Hiroshi-"

"Ah-ha. So you _were _with Hiroshi when you said you would meet him for lunch. I thought so." Mrs. Briefs turned back to her vegetables.

"What I do none of your business, Mom," Bulma spat, angry at being called out on her selfish behavior.

"It is when it involves members of this family, Bulma," Mrs. Briefs retorted. "This even involved business. You used to be so considerate of others and their needs and concerns. Now you seem to be concentrating on what _you _want and what makes _you _happy, and to hell with everyone else. Not everything is about you. You should think about that once in a while."

Bulma let out an affronted gasp. "That's a completely unfair accusation, Mom!" she objected. "How could you think something like that about me?"

"I observe far more than you think, Dear. Tell me, have you tried calling him yet?" Mrs. Briefs asked casually.

"I..." Once again, Bulma found herself trapped. What could she say in her own defense?

"I'll let you know when dinner is ready," Mrs. Briefs said, effectively dismissing her daughter.

Offended and embarrassed, Bulma grabbed her things, left the kitchen in a huff and stormed to her room. "Stupid Mom, she thinks she knows everything. What does she know about Vegeta or me?" she grumbled, sitting down heavily onto the bed. She took her phone from her purse and found Vegeta's number in her contact list.

The phone rang multiple times before connecting. "Hello, this is Vegeta. I am unable to take your call at this time. If you leave your name, number and a detailed message, I will return your call." She waited while the greeting was repeated in Eastern Standard, wondering if she should just hang up or leave a message.

A beep indicated that she should start speaking. "Vegeta, this is Bulma. Look, I'm sorry about lunch today and I thought we were going to talk later. I don't understand what happened to make you leave so quickly and take everything with you. Call me when you get this. Bye." She placed the phone on her nightstand and sighed. Part of her thought he was selfish and overreacting. The rest of her knew better, that her mother was right.

This was her fault.

* * *

"All right. Thank you." Vegeta hung up his phone and tossed it onto the bed beside him. He didn't like any of the apartments in the city he'd been shown or had called about. They were expensive for only getting a couple hundred square feet and zero storage space. Some of them even had shared restroom facilities. Nothing would be included in his rent- no utilities, no heat, no electric. There were not even coin laundry facilities in most buildings or a laundromat nearby. Those inconveniences aside, he couldn't see himself being comfortable living in the city. It was noisy with people and traffic at all hours. It was dirty. Prostitutes loitered at the street corners at night, and gangs roamed the streets during the day. Perhaps he could live closer to the city limits instead of being right in the thick of it, or perhaps one of the suburbs would work.

Perhaps he had made a mistake in choosing this city.

His gut feeling still told him that this place had a lot of promise despite its problems and he picked up the listing magazine he'd acquired again, this time flipping through the houses section. Nothing jumped out at him.

He kept turning through the pages. He liked a couple of the suburbs in particular but none of the homes. There were a few homes that appealed to him, but he didn't like the areas they were located. If he found a location he liked, none of the houses suited his needs. Why couldn't he find a listing that covered both?

He sat up straighter, an idea suddenly occurring to him. There was no reason why he _couldn't _have both. He just needed to stop looking at homes, and start looking at vacant lots. He'd build his own house, and end up with a home that perfectly suited his needs.

Well, all except for one thing which was out if his control, anyway.

Vegeta sighed, folding the corner of the page he was on down and tossing the magazine onto the nightstand. He'd happily live in a cardboard box if it meant he could hold her in his arms at night. But what he was doing now went against everything he'd longed for since returning from space the last time. He was thousands of miles away from her, and by his own decision. Until she decided to stop playing her games, it would remain that way.

He sighed again at the loud voices arguing in the hallway as they passed by and the sounds of cars honking and traffic driving by outside. Yes, he could drown it all out, but wherever he was, it wasn't a place worth being without her.

"Stop it, Vegeta," he growled to himself. "She's moved on. Get over it." He knew in his heart that he never would. She'd called his phone the day he'd returned and left some lame ass message claiming that she didn't understand why he'd left. Didn't understand, right. Bulma wasn't stupid, only when it came to her damn boyfriend.

He got up from the bed and put on some shoes and a jacket before leaving the hotel. It would be dinnertime soon, so he decided to to grab a bite to eat and hit a nearby bar he'd passed by on his way here. Maybe a few beers would cheer him up.

* * *

Bulma hung up the phone and tossed it into her purse in frustration. This was the third time in as many days that she had tried to call him. He hadn't responded to either of her other messages, and she was well aware that he'd been in contact with her father. It wasn't as though he had been unable to return her call.

Guilt riddled her mind. While part of her was forced to admit that he had left because of her, the rest of her said she had done nothing wrong and reminded her of how badly he'd hurt her. Hiroshi had _never _hurt her the way Vegeta had. If Vegeta wanted to go stomping off like a child and keep right on doing his own thing because he didn't get his way, well, that was his prerogative.

"Then why does it hurt so badly?" she whispered to herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

* * *

Vegeta looked up from his newspaper as Carly sat down in the booth opposite him. "Ready?"

"Yup. I know exactly what I want." Carly looked at him inquisitively. "Have you found a place to live while you're here yet?"

"Yes. Have a look." Vegeta slid the listings magazine over to her.

Carly looked up at him inquisitively. "It's a piece of property. Are you saying you're going to build a house?"

"Yes. I couldn't find anything I liked, so I'm going to design and build my own house..." He trailed off, a thought hitting him.

"What is it?" Carly asked, noting the contemplative look on his face.

"I'm not happy with my architect," he told her. "Maybe I'll design Capsule East myself, too."

Carly drew in a breath. "Vegeta, I know you're brilliant, but have you any idea what's involved in designing a building, especially one that size?" she asked incredulously.

Vegeta gave her a saucy grin. "Watch me."

She let out a little disbelieving chuckle. "Okay, I'm very interested in seeing what you come up with." She leaned forward. "Why would you build instead of just renting an apartment? Don't you plan on going home once everything is in order?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to answer, then shut it and lifted his newspaper back up.

A bad feeling washed over Carly at his reaction. "Vegeta? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I put in an offer-"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Carly interrupted.

"No, Carly. I'm not going back to Western Country, if that's what you mean by 'home'," came the rather bitter response from behind the newspaper. "I'm tired of trying and being blown off. I'm tired of watching her carry on with that miserable worm. I'm tired of it all. I..."

Carly's eyes teared up as he folded up the paper and tossed it onto the bench beside him before resting his head in his hands. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something bad had happened between them while he was gone. "I'm so sorry, Vegeta," she whispered.

"Yeah, me too." Vegeta sat up straight but didn't look at her.

He looked awful. "Vegeta, any time you need to talk, I'm only a phone call away," Carly offered. "I'm a woman, so I might be able to offer some insight on chick stuff which makes no sense whatsoever to you."

He looked up at her with a crooked little smile. Already he regarded her as a good friend. "Thanks, Carly."

She returned the smile. "Any time." She paused. "Want to get out of here and go for a walk? It's nice outside right now, and there's a little roadside stand across the street that has excellent banana-nut muffins."

He nodded. "Okay. Sounds good to me."

She stood up and tossed some money onto the table. "I've got your coffee. C'mon, let's go."

He stood up and followed her out of the café. She was right, it was nice out, but he still felt like sulking.

"You sure you're okay?" Carly's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Vegeta shrugged. "As good as can be expected, I suppose," he muttered. "My attempts at getting her back have failed utterly, so I just have to figure out how to let her go."

Carly stopped walking and took his arm to turn him so they were facing each other. "Vegeta, we've talked about this before, so be honest with me. Do you truly love her or not?"

Vegeta looked down at his feet.

"Vegeta?"

"Yes," came the tiny answer.

"Would you do anything to get her back?"

He nodded. "I'd do anything for her," he agreed, "whatever it takes to have her back."

"Then don't give up," Carly told him softly. "I understand if you need a little time away, but don't ever give up."

He let out a long sigh and started walking again. "I just don't know if I can take any more," he told her. "It tears at me deeper every time I try and she runs back to that bastard." He snorted. "Listen to how soft I've become. My father must be scoffing at me in disgust from Otherworld."

Carly frowned. "Vegeta, why would you think that?"

Vegeta looked at her. "I haven't told you very much about myself and my people, have I?" he asked as they stepped up to the crosswalk.

"Your people?" she echoed. "No, you haven't. Who exactly are you?"

She was going to find out anyway eventually. He was wondering exactly how much to tell her when the walk light went on and they stepped out into the street to cross it. "I'm not from around here-"

"Kami!" Carly cried as a car ran the red light and whipped around the corner, directly into their path. "Vegeta, watch out!"

Vegeta turned just in time to see the car bearing down on them, its tires squealing as the driver attempted to stop. Instinct took over as he stepped in front of the other screaming pedestrians and put his hands out, literally picking the front end of the vehicle up and stopping it as it reached him.

The screaming abruptly stopped at the sight of the short, wild-haired man standing in the street and holding up the vehicle which had almost hit them, mutterings of awe taking their place. A little boy ran up to him, his eyes shining with excitement. "Holy cow, Mister! How did you _do_ that?"

Coming back to his senses, Vegeta immediately put the car back down, shaking his fist menacingly at its freaked out driver as he grabbed Carly by the arm and hauled her down the street. "Let's get out of here."

"I need to rephrase my question," Carly informed him as they rushed down the street in an attempt to avoid passersby who had whipped out their camera phones. "_What _exactly are you?"

* * *

Carly put down her coffee cup, eyeing him closely as she mulled over his story. She had known that there truly _were _aliens living on Earth, but she had never actually met one. That is, she'd never met one until today. "Wow. That's some story," she murmured.

Vegeta met her gaze silently for a long moment. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Oh, I believe you," Carly contradicted him. "Actually, it explains a lot about you." She smiled at his startled expression. "Think about it Vegeta. How did I recognize you when we met?"

"All of the males of the house of Vegeta have hair like mine," he told her. "_Had_ hair like mine, I suppose I should say. It was bred into us, a distinction of the royal family." He sighed. "Not that it matters any more. My people are dead, my planet destroyed. Only one other pure-blooded Saiyan exists, and he hardly acknowledges his heritage, or what my bloodline means." He shrugged. "He thinks I'm his friend, but he's really just a big clown."

Carly couldn't contain a giggle at the sour expression on Vegeta's face. "I take it he lives on Earth, too?"

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, about a half-hour's flight from Capsule Corp," he acknowledged. "But he knows a technique called instant transmission, so he's always popping by unannounced and scaring the crap out of people." He snorted. "Fool."

Carly giggled again. "Admit it, he's your friend, isn't he? After all, who else shares your heritage in common?"

Vegeta scowled at her. Damn. "I suppose," he admitted. "Despite being a retard at times, he would give the shirt off his back to someone in need, and he cares greatly for his friends and family. He even gave his life defending his son once."

Carly's eyebrow rose, and he immediately realized his error. "He _gave _his life for his son?" she echoed. "You were talking as if he's still here."

"He was granted a second chance at life, since he was needed to protect the Earth at the time," Vegeta told her, grateful that he had come up with a satisfactory answer that hadn't involved dragonballs.

"Really?" Carly sat up straighter. "From what?"

Vegeta sighed. He should have known this was coming. "From me."

Carly's eyebrow rose. "Okay..."

"I wasn't exactly what you would call a good person for most of my life, Carly," he told her. "I did a lot of bad things just to stay alive. One of the things I was involved in was an attack on the Earth," he muttered, not looking at her. Kakarrot defeated me, and I withdrew."

"Kakarrot?" Carly interjected. "You mean the other Saiyan?"

"Yes," Vegeta confirmed. "He had his family, friends and the planet he grew up on as his motivation to succeed, whereas mine was a selfish motivation. I understand now how he is able to come out on top with a fraction of the effort that I ever put out. He has the right reasons to win the battle."

Carly digested this. "So I guess it's safe to say that you're a changed man."

"Indeed." Vegeta found himself grateful for her diplomacy and the change of direction in the conversation. "Bulma was instrumental in that. She must have seen something about me that I still am not sure of that compelled her to invite me into her home, her life and her bed. She took me in and treated me well when everyone else would just as soon have cast me aside, or even do away with me. She changed my life for the better, made me a different person, a better one. But I foolishly equated those changes as having made me soft and weak, since I was conditioned through bitter experience that only the strong survive. What I didn't realize until it was too late was that having people to care about makes one strong, not weak."

Carly didn't say anything, but simply waited for him to continue.

"If someone attempted to harm one of the people I care about and I was present, he or she would be dead before they hit the ground. I guarantee it." Vegeta looked over to Carly to gauge her reaction.

"I believe you," Carly told him in complete seriousness.

Vegeta looked at her with surprise. "You aren't put off by that?"

Carly shrugged. "Maybe a little by the thought of it, but not when I consider everything you've told me you went through." She reached over to place a hand over his. "I can't imagine being taken as a child by a horrible monster who killed almost my entire race and enslaved me, forcing me to do his bidding," she said softly. "I actually give you a lot of credit since you're not a complete psychopath."

Vegeta snorted. "No, just a psychopath."

Carly laughed. "Don't be so hard on yourself," she chastised gently. "You've come a long way. Anyone who's heard your story would know that."

Vegeta nodded glumly. "Yeah, thanks." But it wasn't enough; just look at where he was now.

"Hey. Let's talk about something a little cheerier for a while, okay?" Carly suggested.

He gave her a grateful little smile. "What did you have in mind?"

Carly shrugged. "I dunno. Anything I can help you with as far as Capsule East goes?" she asked, pleased when he suddenly brightened.

"Yes, there is something you can help me with," Vegeta agreed. "I think I will need an assistant sooner than later. This individual would have to be able to follow directions, work on his or her own, know how to run an office efficiently, and be able to deal with all sorts of people, including a bastard like me," he told her, making her wonder exactly how much he was serious and how much he was joking about the dig on himself. "Know anyone strong willed who's looking for employment?"

The corner of Carly's mouth curled up. "As a matter of fact, I do," she informed him.

"Great, have them e-mail me their resumé," he told her. Vegeta wasn't sure what to make of that, given the glint in her eyes.

"Oh, I will. I think she'll suit you just fine," Carly assured him.

"Who is it?" Vegeta asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Carly smiled. "My niece, Lauren," she told him. "She had some schooling in Western Country and speaks fluent Western."

Vegeta sat up straighter. "I hadn't even thought about that," he admitted.

"Yeah, that's as important as putting up with a grumpy pants like you, huh?" Carly teased. "Don't worry, she may be a bona fide spitfire, but she's also a big sweetheart. You'll really like her, and her little boy too."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "A spitfire, huh? She can't be as hard-headed as you are."

Carly laughed. "Oh, good heavens, no. She's much worse."

* * *

"Vegeta, so good to hear from you, my boy," Dr. Briefs exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. "How are things going there?"

"Ground breaking is tomorrow," Vegeta told him, cradling the phone against his shoulder so he could better look at the plans in his hands. "Do you think you could stop by for an hour or two tomorrow?"

"I'd love to, but I just can't," Dr. Briefs said regretfully. "I'd send Bulma, but she's stuck in meetings all day tomorrow too."

Vegeta's stomach had jumped a little at the mention of Bulma's name. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing that she couldn't come. "Then I'll definitely have to have you by soon," he responded in as neutral of a tone as possible. "Are you certain that you wouldn't like to see the blueprints before construction begins?"

"No, no, I'd like to be surprised," the doctor insisted. "I've enjoyed each and every surprise you've given me. This one'll be incredible, I'm certain."

A soft chuckle came over the line. "I certainty hope so. But I'm sure you'll be pleased," Vegeta told him. "I hope to get this facility built and staffed relatively quickly."

"I'm not at all worried about whether I'll be pleased," Dr. Briefs assured him. "And speaking of staffing, I have decided to make a change around here."

"Oh? What's that?" Vegeta asked, his interest piquing. "Have you hired your new executive yet?"

"Not yet," Dr. Briefs told him. "I have decided to recommend a promotion to the board."

"Ah. Are you retiring and promoting Bulma?" Vegeta suggested. He wasn't quite sure that he liked the idea, despite knowing that Bulma would be the ideal candidate for the job. She was far too emotional at the time, according to Geta, and he knew that it had to do in part with him.

"No, I've decided that I'm not ready for that yet," Dr. Briefs responded. "Rather, I am recommending that Bulma's title be changed to 'Vice President West' and that you be promoted to 'Vice President East'," he said, pride for the younger man clearly coming through in his voice. "You've done such a bang up job that I'm sure the board will give their approval."

"I... I don't know what to say," Vegeta stammered, completely surprised by the doctor's revelation.

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Just say 'Sure, Shatsu, that sounds great!'," he told the flabbergasted Saiyan. "After all, this is your project and I have to say I am very impressed by your work thus far. You certainty deserve such a distinction. It only makes sense, as none of this would be happening without your hard work."

Vegeta held back a sigh. Unfortunately, this only made his ultimate decision easier to deal with. "Thank you, Shatsu. I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Of course, m'boy, of course. This position will also guarantee that once Capsule East is up and running, you'll be able to train someone to manage its operations while maintaining control over the project you've worked so hard to implement. The contacts you've made and the accounts you've negotiated will also prevent Bulma from taking on too much herself," Dr. Briefs told him. "So, Bulma will oversee operations at Capsule West while you oversee Capsule East. You can easily do that overseas, traveling there a few times a year if necessary. We'll definitely be incorporating video conferencing as part of the process. How does that sound?" he asked, not prepared for the long pause at the other end of the line. "Vegeta?" he continued, thinking that perhaps the call had been dropped.

"I'm here." Although Vegeta had spoken with Bulma once the initial hurt had cooled down and their conversation had been civil, Geta had admitted to him that his mother had made no move to break things off with Hiroshi. In fact, she seemed rather melancholy and was not home much in the evenings. This equated to one thing for Vegeta: she was spending more time with her disgusting boyfriend rather than less time.

Dr. Briefs hesitated before speaking. "Is everything all right?"

"I have purchased a piece of property in Blackberry Farms and secured permits to begin construction," Vegeta told him in a neutral tone.

There was another long pause as Dr. Briefs realized just what Vegeta's statement meant. Blackberry Farms was an affluent suburb of Strawberry Fields with a large residential population. Vegeta had no intention of returning to Western Country. "I see. I hope you will reconsider, Son."

Vegeta felt guilt wash over him at the crushed sound of the doctor's voice. "I don't know. It's just not good for me there right now," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He ended the call and sat down on the bed heavily, his head in his hands. As much as he missed his family and the place he'd come to think of as home, it was too painful waiting for any chance at reconciliation with Bulma and watching her always run back to her boyfriend after repeatedly stirring up such powerful emotions in him. He loved her fiercely, and it hurt too much to be so close to her, yet so far from any resolution with her. He just couldn't do it any longer.

Reaching into the bedside drawer, he pulled out a fifth of scotch. It would be a long night otherwise.

* * *

The phone rang, interrupting the activity going on in the kitchen. "I'll get it." Geta wiped his hands on a dish towel and looked at the caller ID. "It's from Eastern Country," he announced. "I think that's Father's private business line. Hon, could you tell Gram and Gramps?"

"Sure," Anya agreed, getting from the table where she had been feeding their son. "Bulma, could you watch Vegeta for me?"

"Of course," Bulma agreed, sitting down in Anya's vacated chair and reaching over to ruffle the boy's hair.

Anya kissed her son's little cheek and left the kitchen as Geta picked up the call using the speakerphone. "Hey, Father. Good to hear from you."

"Son," Vegeta acknowledged. "How's it going over there?"

"Good, good. You doing okay?" Geta hadn't seen his father in nearly a good two months, other than the time he'd popped over to get a blood sample to test for viral levels. Vegeta claimed that he had been so busy lately overseeing the construction of Capsule East that he couldn't visit yet, but Geta knew that not only was his father busy, it was a convenient excuse to avoid seeing his mother and her wretched boyfriend. "You sound tired."

"I am," he admitted, not knowing Bulma was in the room. "I don't sleep much lately. I've been so busy. Besides, I think maybe the stress of this project combined with getting used to the extreme time difference here has been taking its toll on me."

Geta put a finger over his lips and shook his head as he saw Bulma open her mouth to comment. She, too, had easily seen through his flimsy excuse. "Yeah, you'd think you'd be used to that by now." He chuckled. "You'll survive just fine, if anyone would."

Vegeta paused; perhaps he'd detected his son's hesitancy to buy his excuse. "Say, do you have me on the squawk box again? You sound distant."

"Squawk?"

"Sorry... I'm picking up stupid expressions from the interns here." Geta could imagine his father rolling his eyes in annoyance. "I meant speakerphone."

"Ah. Yes, you're on speakerphone. It's hilarious, because your grandson is looking quite confused that he can hear your voice but not see you." Geta grinned. "Say hi to Grandpa, Vegeta."

"Where Ganpa? Don' see Ganpa!" Vegeta objected, his little face distorted with a pout.

"I'm using the phone, Vegeta. Are you being a good boy and taking care of your mama and sister?" Vegeta asked.

Vegeta's face brightened. "Hi, Ganpa! Mama okay. I help lots. I a _big_ boy!"

His grandfather chuckled. "Yes, you are. I bet you're even bigger than before I left."

"Miss you, Ganpa. When you come back?" the boy asked.

"Grandpa misses you too, Vegeta. I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home," Vegeta told him. There was a barely detectable tremor to his voice, but anyone who knew him well would detect it. "I'm going to talk to your daddy now, okay?"

"Okay!" Vegeta responded. "Wuv you, Ganpa!"

Geta could hear his father take in a deep breath. "You too. Keep being a good boy." He paused. "Geta, I... I'm glad it was you who answered. I was hoping for either you or Anya. Even though I've known both of you the least amount of time, you two understand me better than anyone else there."

Bulma's heart twisted in her chest. He was right. It wasn't her. It should have been her. She looked down at her hands sadly.

"I'm glad to hear from you, Father," Geta said softly.

"So am I. I... I miss you, Son. Both of you," he murmured. "Why don't you and Anya come visit? You could bring the boys with you. Well, if Bulma allows it, anyway." He'd mentioned the possibility of Bulma bringing VJ by on multiple occasions, or at least letting Geta do it, but she'd always found some excuse not to do it.

"I miss you too, Father." Geta found himself blinking back tears. His father wasn't one to express that kind of sentiment, and it felt like a knife turning in his heart to hear it. "And I'd like that. I'll talk to Anya and Mother about it."

"I heard my name," Anya announced, coming back into the kitchen. "Come here, you little stinker." She scooped up her giggling son. "Pops, Shatsu and Bunny will be here in a couple of minutes once they finish up with a phone call they're having. They said not to hang up before then."

"All right," Vegeta agreed. "Thanks, Anya."

"No problem. As for _you_, young man, it's time for your nap." She headed for the door with her son. "I'll be back in a sec."

"I no sleepies, Mama!"

"Yes, you are..."

Vegeta paused for a moment as Anya left the kitchen, figuring that they were now alone. "How's Anya doing? Still sick?"

"She's doing better." Geta told him, glad for the change of subject. The last thing his father needed to hear was him breaking down. "She's mostly tired now. Her baby bump is definitely showing. We went grocery shopping yesterday and another patron saw her and said, 'Oh, yeah! I forgot pickles!'" Both men chuckled. "She said she's glad she looks pregnant now and not just fat. She's _never_ looked fat, but she won't believe me."

"It's a female thing," Vegeta said with conviction.

"I think so too."

"Your mother always used to say the same ridiculous thing. Of course, I was too stubborn to tell her how beautiful she is." There was another pause. "How's she doing?"

"She's good," Geta responded, eyeing his mother. She was nibbling at her nails, her eyes full of tears. "Working a lot."

"I know the feeling," Vegeta said softly.

"I think she really liked the flowers you sent for Mother's Day," Geta commented, remembering the large and quite spectacular bouquet of flowers which had arrived over the weekend, along with a card reading 'To the beautiful mother of my son.' Bulma had been very touched, to the point of tears. She had not _ever _expected him to do such a thing, but the moment had been ruined by a snort and a rude comment from Hiroshi.

"That's good," came the very quiet response. "I'm glad to hear it. Lauren helped pick them out. I'm not very good at that sort of thing." He'd been grateful for the suggestion, not even having known that such an observance existed.

"Lauren?" Geta queried, sneaking a look at his rather emotional mother.

"My personal assistant. She's very smart and has excellent taste," Vegeta informed him.

"Oh. I'm glad you found someone reliable," was all Geta could think of to say.

He heard Vegeta take in a long breath. "I- I'm glad she's doing well. Take good care of her for-" He stopped before he could finish with 'me'. "Take good care of her."

"I promise." Geta wondered whether or not he should ask the question he had in mind, especially with his mother crying silently at the table. "You could have picked anyone to go, Father. Don't you still... I mean, how do you feel-"

"I know where you're heading with this, Son," Vegeta interrupted. "What are you trying to do, help me to finally find the courage to off myself?"

Geta's eyes widened. He knew that his father was depressed enough that he often drank too much, but he hadn't known he was entertaining suicidal thoughts. "Father, of course not! That's absurd! It's just that..." He trailed off; Bulma was mopping at her face with a napkin she had taken from the holder on the table.

"I'm just..." Vegeta sighed tiredly. "I got my hopes up when your mother visited from the future because of a couple things she said, one in particular. Bulma is no idiot. She knows how I feel, but she recently made her feelings on the matter clear to me." He took a deep breath. "I guess I'm having trouble making myself let go, with accepting the harsh reality that I'm done, for good. It's just easier to remain here, where I don't..." He paused. "I don't have to see it here."

Bulma got up from her chair and fled the kitchen, unable to listen any longer.

"What was that?" Vegeta asked, hearing her chair scrape across the floor slightly.

"Oh, nothing. Just bumped into a chair is all," Geta lied, not wanting to humiliate his father by admitting that the subject of their conversation had been present in the room. "Just hang in there, Father. Please don't give up."

Vegeta sighed raggedly. "I know what you're saying, Son, but you of all people know what it's like to lose someone you care about. I know she's not dead, but I might as well be to her."

Geta frowned sadly. He hated to even think of his father in such terms. "Father, there's always hope that someday she might change her mind."

"Oh? Has she dumped the cretin yet?"

Geta's face fell. "Father..." What could he say that wouldn't completely destroy any lingering hope his father might have left?

"Well?" Vegeta pressed, although his son's hesitation was enough of a confirmation.

Geta didn't want to answer the question, holding back a sigh of relief as the kitchen door swung open. "Hey, here they come."

His grandparents came into the kitchen, closely followed by Anya. "Hey Pops, guess who's here?" Anya called out.

"Vegeta, Dear, is that you?" Mrs. Briefs asked. "Oh, I miss having you here. I always end up cooking far too much!" She laughed airily.

"I miss you too, Bunny, and I really miss your wonderful food. Why don't you whip up some of those tasty deviled eggs I like and encapsulate them for me next time Geta stops by?" Vegeta teased.

Mrs. Briefs burst into peals of laughter. He was such a dear boy. "I just might do that."

"Hello, Vegeta. How are things going in Strawberry Fields?" Dr. Briefs had Kitty on his shoulder and put the cat down to get some milk for it. Geta eyed the cat warily, keeping his distance.

"I can sum this place up in four words, Shatsu. Easterners are _weird _people."

Everyone laughed. "Oh, they're a different breed of folks, all right," Dr. Briefs agreed.

"But they have such wonderful food and shopping," Mrs. Briefs interjected. "That means they can't be _all_ bad, right?"

The little noise Vegeta made sounded like a cross between a snort and a laugh. "I ate at a couple of so-called 'authentic' Western restaurants here. One was acceptable, but the other was disappointing to say the least."

"Well, you'll be home soon, Dear," Mrs. Briefs said consolingly, unaware of his decision not to return to Western Country. "Won't you?" she added when Vegeta did not respond promptly.

"I'm not sure, Bunny," Vegeta finally answered, not wanting to upset the poor woman, who obviously had her hopes up that he would be returning soon. "I might be here longer than I originally anticipated." He sighed. "_Will_ be here longer than I originally anticipated."

"Oh," was all she said in a tiny voice. Her husband wasn't looking at her nor did he look surprised, so she knew he must have known all along. Something was up, she decided, and she'd have to question him later.

There was another long pause. "Is Bulma in the room?"

"No, she's not," Geta answered a little uncomfortably.

"I think she went to check on VJ," Anya added. "I saw her going into the nursery a couple minutes ago." :What's going on?: she mentally asked her husband.

:I'll tell you later, suffice to say that what she heard of my conversation with Father left her in tears,: Geta responded glumly. :For now, you're completely ignorant of the fact she was in here at all, because Father would _never_ have discussed the things we did had he known.:

:Okay... Should I go check on her?:

:No, I think-:

"I'm here, Vegeta." They all turned to see her in the doorway, VJ in her arms.

"Oh, good. Now we can discuss how things are going on both ends," Dr. Briefs commented brightly, completely unaware of the uncomfortable conversation earlier between his grandson and Vegeta.

"Sure, but first things first," Vegeta began. "Bulma, I wanted to-"

VJ's eyes widened at the sound of his beloved father's voice. "Da-ee!" he shrieked, bouncing up and down excitedly in his mother's arms.

"Hey, is that my big boy I hear?" Vegeta said softly, struggling to maintain his composure. It was harder than anything he'd ever endured to be away from his son. That is, harder than anything other than his estrangement from the boy's mother.

"Hi Da-ee!" VJ shrieked again.

This time Vegeta chuckled. His son always seemed to be able to lift his mood. "Hi, Vegeta. Have you been a good boy?"

VJ said something in response that sounded unintelligible to Bulma's ears, but Anya giggled.

"Aww, that's so cute!" she exclaimed.

Bulma smiled at her son. "Of course he's cute. He's _my_ son, after all," she said haughtily.

"Yes, well, that too," Anya agreed. "But what I was actually referring to was what he _said_."

"What..." Bulma stopped talking when she heard Vegeta's deep voice say something in his native tongue, only to hear her son respond in kind. This happened several times as father and son conversed. She stared at the child in astonishment. "He- he speaks Saiyan already?"

"Bits and pieces, a few words here and there," Vegeta confirmed in the same soft voice he'd used with his son. "Not complete sentences yet, but his speech is certainly intelligible."

Bulma was astonished. Her son hardly spoke many Standard words, but he spoke enough Saiyan ones to carry on an understandable conversation? "Wow. So, what did he say?"

Vegeta was silent for a moment. "He wanted to know where I am. Why I haven't been there. I think he thinks that he must have been bad, and that I am angry at him for it and have gone away because of him." His voice sounded sad. "Nothing could be farther from the truth."

The boy had also told his father that he missed him, and Vegeta had assured the boy that he was indeed missed by his father as well. Although it was sometimes difficult to understand what small children learning to speak were saying unless you were used to hearing them speak, Anya had been able to grasp this. Given her father-in-law's pride, she was not about to disclose what else had been said to the others. He would have done that himself, had he chosen to. She couldn't help but feel pity for them both, and resentment for the woman who was actively driving a wedge into their family.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Bulma spoke again. "How is that cute?"

"He also greeted his daddy. That was cute," Anya spoke up. "I agree- you are a nice Papa."

Vegeta hmphed, but they could tell he was touched, not that he was brushing aside his son's affections. "Sure."

The softness in his voice gave away his true feelings. Anya could almost see his smile. "So when can we come visit you, Pops?" she asked in an attempt to brighten up the mood in the room. "Do you really have an indoor swimming pool at Capsule East? If so, I want to try it out." She'd heard a few rumors from her husband, who regularly kept in touch with Vegeta, one of which was the possibility of an indoor swimming pool.

"Indeed we do! It is Olympic sized, heated, and lighted as well," Vegeta confirmed, his voice brightening. "I budgeted my money well enough that I was able to put in an entire gym for the employees here to use," he said proudly. "It even has a track, a basketball court that can be converted for use with other sports, and day care for children while their parents use the facilities."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Where on Earth did you get the money for that?" she exclaimed. "You're talking about a huge expense here."

"As I told you, I budgeted my building allowance well. The majority of the savings came from firing my idiot of an architect and using someone else," Vegeta told her, omitting the fact that he'd rolled in his living expenses. He could pay for his own food and lodging, including his newly constructed house in Blackberry Farms.

"Who did you get?" Bulma pressed on, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Nope, I'm not going to say. You come look at it and tell me who designed it." The challenge in his voice was evident, but it was short-lived as he decided to speak his mind. "Say, I think it would be perfect for everyone to stop by during Vegeta's birthday. The weather is already nice here, and I have enough room for everyone to stay overnight."

"That sounds wonderful," Dr. Briefs agreed, glancing at his daughter as if to say that he was not open to any argument. Bulma had been stubborn and selfish long enough, and it was time for her to be fair and allow his grandson to see his father, at the same time spending time with her family rather than her despicable boyfriend. She hardly even spent any time with her own child, for Kami's sake!

"Yes, what a wonderful idea," Mrs. Briefs agreed. "Will everything be done by then?"

"If you mean Capsule East, construction was completed well ahead of schedule," Vegeta gloated. "I will come by and get Shatsu for a couple hours on Friday for the official ribbon cutting."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Vegeta!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, then paused. "You knew about this, Shatsu? Why didn't you say anything?" she demanded.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," the doctor defended himself. "You know you would have gotten all excited and made all sorts of food and decorations and everything else in between, and would have wanted to throw a huge party there."

Vegeta's chuckle came over the speaker. He could almost see her scowl. "No harm was intended, Bunny. You'll get your chance for a party, as I am planning a gathering for the employees here soon. Anyway, back to Capsule East. I found a reputable contractor who was willing to either break his back to get it done or get lost. With a project of this size and the zeni signs that accompanied it, they decided to haul ass on the job, especially when they realized that they'd get a bonus for every day they finished ahead of schedule."

Anya's laughter rose above the chuckles of the others. "Haul ass, you're so funny, Pops."

"Hmph. Funny, right." They could hear the amusement in his voice. "So... Can I count on all of you to be here next weekend?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, for certain," Mrs. Briefs piped up. "I'll even make VJ's birthday cake!" This was so exciting! And maybe being with his family would make him want to come home sooner than he planned! "You can move any appointments you have for a few days, couldn't you Bulma?"

Bulma had her reservations. After all, she wasn't too keen on Strawberry Fields and she'd never seen Vegeta's home. VJ was toddling around the house now, and when he wasn't walking he could power crawl faster than she could keep up with him much of the time. How did she know if the place was baby-proofed? But, why would Vegeta put his son or grandson at risk of being hurt? He was a good father, a very good one in fact, and he lived in a suburb, not the city itself. A wave of guilt washed over her for doubting him. "I'll have to check my calendar, but I don't think I have much scheduled around then because of VJ's birthday," she responded. "I guess it would be as good of a time as any."

"Sounds like a plan," Vegeta told them, holding back a sigh of relief. He'd almost expected another excuse from Bulma, and realized that he would have been devastated had she rejected him for this event. He'd missed everything else other than the boy's first word, and didn't want to miss this. "Just so you know, there's a nice park and a beach nearby where the children can play. Make sure you pack their swimming clothes. I can get some toys for them."

"I can't wait to come see you, Pops!" Anya exclaimed excitedly. "I want to see your new place, and Capsule East, too."

"I'll give you the grand tour," Vegeta promised. "I'm looking forward to everyone visiting too." They could hear a muffled tone. "Stupid phone, who's calling me after six? Oh. I've got to get this, it's an important client."

"All right, we'll talk to you again soon," Dr. Briefs told him. "Bye, now." A smattering of goodbyes followed.

"Bye Da-ee!" VJ squealed, making everyone chuckle.

"Bye, Vegeta. Be good for Mama," Vegeta told him before the line disconnected.

"What a nice phone call," Mrs. Briefs commented.

"Yes, it was good to hear from Father," Geta agreed, although thoughts of his conversation with his father earlier niggled uneasily at his mind. Should he talk to his mother about it or let it go? He looked over to her, his eyes meeting hers.

She held Geta's gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes, afraid that she'd lose her composure. "I should go feed VJ," she murmured before scurrying from the kitchen with her son.

Mrs. Briefs frowned. "My, but she was in a hurry. She's probably a little anxious about visiting Eastern Country. I hear Strawberry Fields is a rough city," she ventured.

"That could be, Bunny," Dr. Briefs began, "but I think perhaps-"

"Oh Darling, I know she's anxious about facing Vegeta more than anything else," Mrs. Briefs interrupted gently. "After all, everyone knows that her boyfriend is an incredible jerk and Vegeta has only been good to her since he got back. Of course she's confused."

Anya and Geta exchanged a surreptitious glance. "I think you probably hit the nail right on the head, Bunny," Anya told her. "We'll see how it all goes." She had no doubt that she and her husband had a lot to discuss, and her mother-in-law had a lot to think about as well.


End file.
